I'm who they call,"Colors."

Not because I was colorful or anything, cause that would be weird. But because they said my mind was "Full of colorful things".

I guess they meant that I was weird, crazy, immature and had an insane imagination.

To me, I liked to think of myself as optimistic. Not to say I cool and happy all the time, but more so than anyone else here.

I'm the only one who saw this place for what it could be, not what it was, which was horrifying.

It had no color. I'm not saying that it was black and white, but that it was dead. The world I knew was dead.

No one saw what I saw. They saw a place where you live. I saw a whole world filled with things that could make it so much brighter.

My real name, well I didn't have one. No one did. And we lived in a place with no name. It was just what we called home.

Out goal in life... Survive. We had no purpose or reason to live. We just did.

And I was the Only one who saw colors. Not literally. Everyone saw colors, but Im the only one who saw something in them. Something deeper.

Everyday, I looked for new things that could help us. Our world was dull, dark, and dead. I wanted to bring it to life. I wanted to more than just survive... I wanted to live. And this is the story of how I did

Hey guys! I know this story seems a little confusing, but trust me, it's not! I hope you'll all like it! Comment your thoughts!!!