Red. The color of anger. Red. The color of passion. Red. The color of fierceness. The only color I think of when I see you. Those words seem to make so much sense together, passionate, fierce anger. The color of your words spitting out in quick succession at me, telling me to grow up. When you read a book, authors will often say “And suddenly he saw red.” Maybe there is a reason behind it. Red. The color of anger. Red. The color of passion. Red. The color of fierceness.

Red, the sound of you stumbling home drunk. Red, the shuddering of the house as you yell. Red, the smooth way your lies flow through my ears. Red is all I can think of! Because every other color has been drained out of my life. I used to see rainbows around every corner, believe in those Disney Princess sparkles. But that is all gone. All gone because you have killed all of the happiness in my life, taken all of the color, all of the surprise until there is nothing left but red.

You made sure that there were only ever two possibilities in my life. Red, the color you chose, or a life with no color at all. I was raised on “If violence is not the answer, you’re not using enough of it”. I never blamed you as I watched the colors slowly seep away one by one, I only ever blamed myself. I thought I deserved to live in this bleak, lifeless world.

I want all of my colors back, so I can see beauty in my blue eyes, instead of a dull gray, the blonde highlights in my hair instead of a dingy brown. To be able to see wonder and light in everything around me, the sparkle in my friends eyes as she rants about this new band. But all I can see is anger, hurt, Red. I want to forget, I want to live, but how can I live when there are no more colors in this world?

So now Red stands for different things. Red, the first color in the rainbow, Red, my mother’s favorite color, and Red, the start of seeing beauty again.