A SHORT STORY
Faded sunlight cut across Raleigh’s vision as she fluttered her eyes open. She felt a dull, dry feeling—her agonizing perception of the world around her—seep into her skin with the warm sunlight. Through her beautiful green eyes, the windows to her delicate soul, she saw no color. Born without the ability to see vibrant and vivacious flowers or insects, paintings or Technicolor movies, and even the different hues of her own skin and hair, Raleigh matured through the hardships of a life made entirely of one charcoal sketch after another.
The scenery changed many times from one hospital to the next. The hallways and corridors stretched farther and echoed louder with increasing screams and laments from patients much more insane and out of touch with reality. During the initiation into her current whitewashed prison, Raleigh let go of the memories of her very last friend.
The thought of Stephanie’s hair, soft gray and grown beyond the small of her back, tickled Raleigh’s lonesome nose as she sat in the leather chair at the front desk, just as calm and quiet as any given ‘sane’ person. She fought the engraved images in her mind and the familiar tingle along the contour of her face, trying ever-so-hard to nod her head at the right moments during the routine speech from the head nurse.