Part One

I live in a yellow room, in a red house. I am always green and sometimes, I'd imagine that it were just stomach sickness. My mother told me to never leave the red house because this is the only place where color exists. She said I would never again see the blue sky, but instead a gray carpet-like texture stretched across the heavens. There wouldn't be any flowers out there or rain that brought out the rainbow. I asked her a lot about the people; she said they didn't exist. "There are monsters outside who would hate you and take your color away." I cried.

What a distasteful world this is. I can't leave my red house, I can't! I don't like being green, yet if the flowers don't bloom anywhere but here, then what is the point of losing paradise? Adam and Eve had curiously eaten an apple even when they had been warned. What did they receive? The dark world of shades. If this truly is my Eden, then I refuse to taste my first apple.

Speaking of fruits - I haven't eaten in quite sometime. Mother always had me wait for her. "Don't venture out from beyond any of the doors. If you do, you surely will be cursed!" I worry. It isn't like her to not come, especially when today is my birthday. I'll be thirty-seven, but what it really means is that I'm ten. We like to play this game where we add the two numbers in our age and come up with a much smaller sum. That's one of the few things we do on our birthdays, though. It's what makes everything just so much more meaningful. Then, there's the gift I always get. It never changes; never.

There is something outside the window. I don't know what it is, but it has been there for a while. It comes and goes and I find that I'm not so frightened of it anymore.