Tainted Peach:

Sometimes I just sit for hours with my watch pressed against my ear. I stare blankly at the pale wall. I think the peachy color of that wall is etched into my pupils forever. Everything I look at now seems to be tainted peach.

When it's sunny enough, the sun shines in the window above the couch I lay down on, and the sunshine reflects off the imitation gold of my watch and there are splashes of light on the wall. My mom used to tell me it was Tinkerbelle, and would wiggle her wrist so the light would dance for me. But that was when I still knew my mom, or thought I did anyway…

I used to get really irritated when I'd lay on my couch with my watch pressed to my ear, staring at the wall, because then I would see a dresser or some other belonging of mine, and I'd get distracted. From the ticking of the second hand, from the Tinkerbelle dancing on the pale wall. But I've since moved all those distracting things away. Now I don't miss a tick.

My friends always tell me I'm wasting my life away in this room; that I should be out enjoying the sun instead of watching reflections of it on my wall. But what do they know…I remember every second.

Tick, tick, tick, tick…