Water Colors and Drunken Pastels

Vic's legs dangled from each side of the large study branch, kicking back and forth in a repetitive, lazy motion. His back was pressed up against the trunk and he could feel the rough bark poking through his thin shirt. His voice rumbled in his throat in captivity, finding the notes and melodies of his favorite song at the moment. He smiled to himself, leaning his head back to stare up at the sun poking through the leaves. "I wonder what color is like," he thought to himself, a frown taking over his previous smile and his fingers aching with the mere idea.

What was color like? Of course Vic had no idea and he only knew a couple of people who actually experienced it each day. He felt left out , as if those people hid a secret that opened up a whole new world. Vic wanted to be a part of it.

He imagined what colors would be like, feel like, look like, and even smell like, if that was remotely possible... He wanted to know which color to feel when he felt heartbreakingly sad or which color to wear when he couldn't help but to have a smile on his face. He wanted to experience colors like the lucky ones did.

Vic's parents were lucky. His father thought his mother was the prettiest girl at school, and finally after three years of playing shy, he asked her out on a date their junior year of high school. They went to the school's Homecoming carnival and amongst the screaming kids, swirls of cotton candy, and ringing of games, Vic's father managed to make Vic's mother laugh louder than she thought possible. So with blushing cheeks and timid smile, his mother reached out and ever so carefully laced their fingers together and it was so eye opening seeing colors for the very first time. However, it was only reserved for the lucky ones.

"You always tell the story so perfectly...but I still can't imagine it." Vic pouted each time his mother explained it to him.

She laughed, her smile seeming so warm and bright. "You'll meet that special someone someday, Victor," she winked. "You just have to be patient."

"What's it like, ya know, seeing color for the first time?"

"Well, all it takes is one little touch and it's like you've been a sleep your whole entire life and when you touch the person you're destined to be with for the first time it's as if he woke you up."

Vic sighed, staring up at the grey, washed-out, dreary sky above him. The leaves that surrounded him seemed to hang with the gloomy, colorless pigment; even his clothes, his skin, and his life held no color. He wanted to be woken up. He wanted to see, experience, and breathe color.

Some day, he thought. Someday.