Paint it black
By: Giulia Picciau
Tags: Fiction, Byob, Shortstory, Music

“First, they switched reds off. They were an easy target, the easier one to identify with danger. Their tone so vivid and standing out from the other colors, their wavelength so long, as if they didn’t really want it to go up and down like the other waves. Red is the color of anger and impulsiveness, after all, and they thought our society would gain a great benefit if these traits just disappeared. They said that life is so peaceful underwater, where red tones never dared to arrive.

And so they did, they switched them off, banishing them away where nobody could see them.

For a while, life really seemed better off without reds, but it didn’t last long. The Masters knew they had to keep their eyes open, because threats to the peaceful life in the world could come from everywhere.

After a while, violets began to be regarded with suspect. Their appearance was so dark, so hard to define, and to be honest even a bit saddening. Looking at them, it was so easy to think that something was wrong in the world, and nobody wants a society where people is so depressed. To make it all worse, violets looked so quiet, so much different from the explosive impulsiveness of the reds, and it was easy to suspect this was just a facade. That short wave they boasted, much faster than necessary, had to be a mean to cover something much worse.

It was just a matter of time before oranges were sent away too. They had been so able to disguise their appearance under a layer of warmness and kindness, but they couldn’t keep it up for too long: deep down inside, they were just a weaker shade of red. What prevented them to call them back, or worse, to become so impulsive and angry? After all they had been the more doubtful when voting whether or not to banish reds, and this different vision couldn’t be ignored, let alone forgiven.

Life within a community doesn’t last long without a common enemy to fight against. After a while, yellows began to be regarded with suspect. As the only warm tone remained in the spectrum, they began to feel threatened, and isolated themselves from the other colors. This, of course, upset the cold tones, because they felt the yellow thought they were special, better than the other colors. What gave them that certainty? Look at them, standing out so bright toned and light, while everyone else did their best to blend in. There is no place in a community for someone who doesn’t crave to blend in, because differences are dangerous. And so, yellows were banished too.

Only blue, indigo, and green remained, and life flourished again on the planet. Soon enough, though, it became clear that green was nothing like the other two. There still was a small part in yellow in them, and there was no way of washing it away, no matter how hard they tried. They seemed able to keep this part of themselves at bay, but how long could it last? How long could take to such a diversity to corrupt their green souls and have them wreck the peaceful world built with such a commitment and at such a high price?

Even the smallest difference was a risk, so green had to go.

At first, it seemed like the world in blue and indigo could very well go on together, that they finally found peace. After all, these colors have always been associated with calm, wisdom and peace, which compose the foundation of every stable and respected society. A long period of stability followed, but even that couldn’t last forever. The two remaining colors began to dispute over which one was the wisest of the two. It started as a small disagreement, but it soon began to grow and to get out of control. There was no way to settle it, to solve such a disagreement, and therefore the last resort was the most shocking one: blues and indigos were sent off together.

No color was left on this planet.

Finally, the world envisioned by the Masters happened: everything was equally grey, and thus there was no need to fight anymore. Everything was fine within the roles established by the Masters, and there was no need to worry about anyone disagreeing anymore. No one daring any stupid attempt to stand out from the crowd.

This, my dear, is the beginning of the world as we know it. It dates back to hundreds of years ago, without a single attempt at rebellion. No world configuration had ever lasted so long before giving in to war.”

“And where did the colors go?”

“Nobody knows for sure, it was too dangerous to give someone that information. You’ll surely understand what could happen if it fell in the wrong hands. Someone said they were all locked in the House of Rainbow, but nobody knows where it is, and neither if it’s true.”

“I understand well enough, and I’ll be the one who brings them back.”

The old man opens an eye for the first time in hours.

“And why would you do something so brave and so stupid at the same time?”

The girl gives the picture back to the old man.

“Because this picture is beautiful, and I want everyone to see it with their own eyes.”

“You know you’ll be alone in this. It’s forbidden to speak about colors.”

“Why did you just do that, then?”

“Because I’m old enough not to be scared anymore, my dear.”

The girl gets on her feet.

“And I’m young enough to despise living the rest of my life in such a dull uniformity. I want my life to be colorful, and everybody else’s as well”

“I can’t do anything to talk you out of this, can I?”

As an answer, the girl shakes her head. The old master nods, closing his eyes, and the girl silently exits the hut.

When he’s sure she’s enough far away, the old man slowly gets to his feet, surprised by how harder it gets every day. He relies on his crutch, and walks to the corner of the room, opening the dusty chest that has been there for ages. On its bottom, below layers and layers of black fabric, he finally finds it: a small purple pearl, the last drop of color he was able to hold on to, hiding it from everybody for all that time. The sight of it causes a tear to flow from the old man’s eyes, as it happened every time he looked at the small pearl.

He clenches his fist, holding the pearl in his palm. He kisses the pearl, looking at the empty door frame the girl crossed a while ago.

“Good luck, my dear. Good luck!”