Yo, listen up
Here’s the story,
About a little guy that lives in a blue world,
And all day and all night and everything he sees
Is just blue, like him,
Inside and outside...
He woke up with a splitting headache. His eyes hurt, an unnatural light shining through his room, a brightness he wasn’t used to. The headache faded as he sat up in bed, squinting his eyes. It was odd, the brightness. He kept his curtains closed when he went to bed (due to the horrible feeling that there was always someone at the window), and he always woke up several hours before the sun rose. Had his alarm not gone off? When his eyes finally adjusted to the light, he checked his watch and sighed. 4:30 a.m. Good, he hadn’t slept in. With that realization, he was able to figure out that, no, the light was not from sunlight streaming through the curtains. It was just...there. He couldn’t figure out why, everything in his room just shone with this light. It wasn’t too bright, now that he had gotten used to it.
He rubbed his forehead, hoping that there wasn’t something wrong with his eyes. After a few minutes of sitting in bed, he got up and tried to resume his day as normal. He exercised, then readied himself to go to work.
Blue his house with a blue little window
And a blue Corvette
And everything is blue for him
When he stepped outside, he stopped. Something was just...off. He stepped forward, but no, something was definitely wrong. He glanced behind his shoulder, and there was his house. It looked normal. There wasn’t any wrong with it, per se. It just looked...odd. There was his window, with a little plant growing. He looked around the cul-de-sac he lived in. All the houses were arranged in a nice little circle, with their normal little porches and their normal little doors.
And yet, none of it was normal.
He shook his head, now convinced there was something wrong with his eyes. Perhaps he would get them checked out later. He got into his Corvette and drove to work. The drive to work was boring, and he always had the worst of luck. Always, right when he got to a stoplight, it’d tell him to stop.
Today, when he got to the stoplight, it didn’t change color. It stayed the same, and he said a quiet “yes!” to himself. Finally, today was a day of good luck.
And that.
That was when he got hit.
He didn’t wake up in a hospital. It looked like it, at first, what with the crisp, clean walls, and the small table by his bed. On the ceiling, there was that same kind of light that always hurt his eyes. He was dressed some kind of hospital gown as well.
He gingerly got up, fully expecting to hurt, but he didn’t. Looking at himself, there wasn’t even a scratch.
The door was unlocked, and he stepped out, the floor cold against his bare feet.
His room was one in a long hallway. Doors on both sides, each with a piece of paper on them.
The door across from him had:
Pearl Reter
Color: Green
The one beside that:
Ethan Klei
Color: Red
Wedrin Drow
Color: Yellow
Tom Watsen
Color: Orange
Grant Kokes:
Color: Green
He scanned the long list of names, of colors, and finally, terrified, turned back to his own door.
Hunter Zelman
Color: Blue
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In all honesty, I'm...not exactly sure what this is. Read it, point out how horrible it is, I don't know.
