Close Your Eyes, Come With Me

She opened her eyes. The colors invaded them instantly, a multitude
of colors; blue, green, red, lots of red. Dreams are black and white.
She looked around in amazement. Never before had she seen so many
colors. For some of them she couldn't even remember the name. She felt
stupid.

Close your eyes.

She did not want to close her eyes. The colors were beautiful but
frightening at the same time. What was that one called, the bright one?
She was racking her brains but the name wouldn't come. Instead she felt
pain. Her eyes hurt, the colors were hurting them. She felt herself
panicking. The colors were moving, swirling around her, making her
dizzy. They were dancing, teasing her, mixing into new colors whose
names she also could not remember. Blue and green combined into some
ugly smudged color which reminded her of David. David was a shadowy
figure and the color suited him. Thinking of David hurt her head.

Close your eyes.

She closed her eyes and it was bliss. The memory of the colors faded
almost instantly. Dreams were black and white. Right or wrong, left or
right. There was something soothing about the confusing clarity of
dreams. There were no colors in her dreams. David was David, with no
color attached, and she was - who was she? She was a flower in a field,
too beautiful to be picked, fragile, moving her face towards the sun.
She was a bird, gliding across the field with the wind and she could
see the flower below. She was the wind, a soft, gentle breeze bringing
life or death, and her name was...

Nicole

Nicole opened her eyes again, this time prepared for the onslaught of
colors. She wondered who was calling here. There was nobody here,
nobody she could see, just the colors, the beautiful colors. She was
used to them now and almost enjoyed watching them play, spinning
around, mixing and separating again, dancing, fighting, attacking and
killing each other. Nicole gasped. She could feel her heart beating
faster and tried to call for help. She needed help. She needed white.
The colors were overwhelming and now they had seen her. The stopped
their dancing and fighting which they had carried out for their own
amusement and benefit. They looked at her and Nicole wanted to
scream.

Come with me.

Nicole shook her head vigorously which tossed the colors from side to
side and made them angry. She stared at them in absolute horror. Red
came forwards and surrounded her, she was drowning in an aggressive sea
of red and still no scream would come. She raised her hands to fight,
to swim, and finally saw white. The relief was so great that she burst
into tears and Red backed off, joining the other colors but not leaving
her, waiting, searching out her weaknesses, pausing while the white was
in control.

She touched the white on her wrist with her hand. It was cool and
comforting. She had tried to cut the flower, the beautiful flower that
had once lifted its head to the sun. She remembered it now. The white
was healing her but it only concealed more red. Out of the corner of
her eyes she saw Red sneering. If only David was here. David had white,
lots of white. She hated David, but he brought white. He was black but
he made her white. Black and white like a dream.

Close your eyes, come with me.

Nicole closed her eyes. Someone had stepped on the flower and now it
was on the ground dying, trying to raise its head to see the sun, to
see the bird, to feel the wind. She was all three and she felt she was
dying, white or black, right or wrong, alive or dead. The soft summer
breeze turned into a storm, cold and hard, black not white. The storm
turned cruel and thunderous, it brought noises, strange noises that
meant nothing to her. She wanted to cover her ears with her hands but
she was so tired now and so she had to endure the deafening noise,
wondering briefly if it was the noise or the colors she hated
more.

"Nicole?" She opened her eyes. It was David and he had brought her
white. She looked at the unfamiliar shape that was not David. Behind
the shape she could see the colors waiting for her. The shape made a
noise and she winced. Her pain was unbearable, the colors, the noise,
the memory of the flower and the bird and the soft, warm breeze. She
wanted to be the bird again, gliding across the field in the gentle
wind, seeing the flower and rejoicing in the fact that it was not
dying, it was lifting its head again and the sun gave it new life.
Nicole wondered what it would take for her to be that bird again. How
many times would she have to die?

Close your eyes. Come with me.

She closed her eyes for the last time.