White. It's all I can see. It's a blinding, disorienting white. Like the medical room walls, like the lights shining harshly down on my foreign body. White. The color of untainted roses, the color of peonies, the color of pure innocence. White, the color of my knuckles straining under my flesh, white, the color of my bones, the only color I can see. Blinding me, binding me, making me unable to breathe.
White is the only color I've know till you appeared in a beautiful crimson. Then color bloomed, blues and purples and greens and every single color imagined. But I only wanted to see that beautiful red again.
Red is a color of fate, did you know that?
It's the color of the blood that stains my hands, it's the color of hearts beating erratically, it's the color of passion, of anger, of loss, of love. It's the color of survival, it's the color of humanity.
It stands for war, for loss, for tragedy, it stands for unwavering love, it stands for rage, it stands for vulnerability, it stands for humanity at its worst and best.
Red is such a powerful color, it's raw and untamed. It's unnerving, it's overwhelming, it's... perfect.
