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What do you do when you're cornered in an alleyway with a knife to your throat being asked about a girl whom you know is in danger and that you care for but you're now dead to?

Well me, I choose to lie, the one thing we're taught as humans not to do as soon as we're old enough to understand basic logic.

"Who?" I ask, creasing my eyebrows in confusion.

"Violet Black, I saw you with her! I did!" he snarls in my face, his fouls breath raising the fine hairs on the back of my neck.

I cringe and turn away, but he forces me to look at him, digging the knife in deeper and retching my face to look at his.

"No, y-you must have the w-wrong person!" I protest, struggling slightly in fear, "please let me go! I have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Are you sure?" he asks, raising as eyebrow and dragging the blade across the skin on the left side of my neck, leaving a cut behind, "because if you're bullshitting me, I swear to god you will not live out the year."

"I am not." I confirm, and then he drops my shirt from his curled up fists, shoving me to the concrete, where I stay, not getting up.

"You'd better not be." he snarls, giving me a swift kick in the stomach, but I refuse to make a sound, so I curl back against the wall.

I don't dare to move so much as a muscle until I see that he has truly disappeared. I wince as I run my fingers across my neck, pulling them away to see them stained with dark, grey blood. I sigh and haul myself off the ground, running out of the alley into the black and white street.

My tailbone is throbbing, my stomach is queasy and my neck is stinging, but I just pull a hoodie on to hide it. I keep going, acting like it never happened, when my heart is about to jump out oft chest.

I keep going, all the way past the school, past the grey brickwork, past the rows of perfect, colourless houses and straight through my front door.

My mother is at work, as is my father, who's away for the month in America for his work, which requires him to 'be a father' through Skype. In other words, although he's my father, how good he is at it is another story, but he does Skype weekly, which is something.

I walk straight to the bathroom, my eyes meeting mine in the mirror, the skin as grey as the world around me. I tilt my chin up, examining the cut on my neck, and my fingers prod the sensitive, bruised skin on my tailbone. I sigh, deciding my wounds are not that bad.

I collapse onto my bed after cleaning the blood from the skin around my neck. My head is a jumble of thoughts, and I'm still slightly shocked, my thumping heart is proof of that.

I need to talk to Violet, but first, I need to calm myself down, so I close my eyes, steady my breathing, and try to think of something else.

I wish I never left school that morning.

***

The next morning, I'm back in the school corridors.

I keep my head down, drifting through the crowd unnoticed, but my eyes scan the grey faces for the one belonging to Violet Black. I look for her closed, grey eyes, her long, dark hair, but it's impossible in the sea of impatient people.

I finally spot her, after maths, I run down the polished floors, my sneakers sliding as I grab her arm, pulling her o the side.

"Violet, I need to talk to you!" I say quietly, but keeping my voice firm, "it's important."

"No Alec, please." She says, her sad eyes meeting mine, "I can't."

"Yes, you can Violet. You have to!" I say, my voice louder this time, more confident.

"Fine. We'll talk, but not now, not here..." Violet says quietly, even though the chatter is already loud, "there's too many ears which can hear the wrong information here."

"When then?" I ask

"After school, meet me behind the science block." She says quite harshly, before she turns and walks away, her black boots clicking against the floor.

I'm not sure if I can wait that long, but I'll have to.

The science blocks are on the edge of school, behind them there is only a tall, peeling metal fence. The bricks are old and have cracks running through them, the gap is narrow and this whole place reminds me of the alley I was attacked in...

I just want her to come so I can get out of here.

A hand grabs my shoulder and I yelp, jumping away in fright. I whip around, my arm raised, ready to fight, and sigh in relief when it's only Violet.

"Jesus Alec, what the hell?" she asks, raising an eyebrow, "you should calm down a bit."

"Don't tell me to calm down! You need to tell me what's going on." I say, breathing heavily.

"No." She says simply, "it'll put you in danger Alec, I don't want that. You're supposed to be dead to me, you're not making it easy, you do realise what thy means don't you?"

"Well I could've been dead! I deserve to know what's happening Violet! I was attacked in an alley and had a knife to my throat while a guy asked about you! I'm already in danger Violet!" I exclaim, scowling at her and crossing my arms over my chest.

"How did you get away?" She asks, her voice softer and more like a whisper.

"I-I told them I didn't know you." I say

"Good, then let's keep it that way." she says, glancing around nervously before her cold, grey eyes meet mine, "stay away from me Alec, I mean it. Remember, you're dead to me."

I'm just about to protest, but she's already gone, disappeared around the corner. I jog in the direction she went, but she's gone, leaving me alone in the deserted schoolyard.

I sigh, and a raindrop lands on my shoulder. Shit, it's raining. Oh well, it can match my current mood.

No wonder people with the same colour blindness as me tend to feel depressed. I mean, how would you feel living in a world where the colour has been sucked out, and all that you're left with is a dull, grey world, walking home with rain slowly saturating you?

I slowly walk home, my heart as grey as the world around me, and although the rain is slowly soaking through my clothes, chilling me to the bones, I don't feel a thing.

Because if I'm dead to everyone else, then I'm dead to myself.

***

My life is slowly sliding back to how it used to be, which, by the way, is not a good thing.

Violet bought a little colour to my world, but now that's gone. It's worse this time, because I never knew what it was like to have a friend before. Having a friend bought me a little colour to my life, but now that's gone, and somehow, it makes the world seem duller.

I still get slammed against lockers, books thrown away, paper thrown at me, little things, not enough to make it visible to a teacher. Not that I'd tell them, I'd get classed as a liar and taken to the school counselor, Mrs Adams, who is a large, plump lady with too much makeup, too much enthusiasm and will suffocate you with cringe worthy quotes and musty smelling hugs. Scary.

School seems to drag on forever, when I'm at home, I can't find anything to do, I'm struggling to find a point in myself anymore, my will to live is slowly slipping away.

I hate this, I hate it all, I'm so tired of it all. What is the point of living in an all grey world?

I glance at the bottle of pills sitting in my beside table draw. They're painkillers, but can they take away this sort of pain?

Well, I'll soon find out.

I pop open the bottle, shaking out a handful of the little, white tablets. I want to go to sleep, let the peaceful darkness engulf me, and never open my eyes to the unforgiving, colourless world again.

One pill, two pills, three, four, five...

I swallow eleven in all, washing them down with a mouthful of water. My mouth has the bitter taste of medicine in it, and my eyes are starting to become drowsy. My heart is slowing, as is my breaths.

The world starts to fade away and I collapse onto the floor. It's a peaceful feeling, as I feel my eyes flutter shut. The silence, the pain lifting.

I hear my door open, I hear a scream, but I ain't respond, I'm frozen, heavy, but my chest has lifted. I hear a frantic phone call, I hear my mother crying, but I don't fight the drugs, I embrace them. I want to go, I want to leave.

I feel a tear drop on my head, my mother begging me to stay, before my world goes dark, but then again, that's how I've always seen it.

And I shut my eyes, wondering if I'll ever open them again.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

AN

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