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Day 2

Write 250 words inspired by the color of the walls of the room I’m in

 

The white walls. Everywhere I look, white walls.  I’m growing to hate the color white, how it encompasses all other colors.  The walls mock me in their blandness.  I want some excitement, I want pizzazz.  I’m tired of these vanilla lines staring at me, closing in with their square shape.

The brown trim thinks it does the job of contrast but all it truly does is add to the overwhelming brightness of the white.  It bleeds down into a form of tan that screams at me from the corners of my eyes.  I need them to be different.  I need them to change.

I rush at the nearest wall, meaning to scratch and claw and kick and punch through, find a different tone or theme underneath.  Perhaps even stain them with my blood.  A red would go nice, it always does.  Red is a nice add to any décor.  I forget in my rage that the nearest wall is over the open stairway.  I fall to the bottom, crashing into steps and more of those damn white walls.  Now they are smudged by my black shoes.  The drywall cracked by my hands as I scrabble for purchase, trying to grip anything to stall my quick descent.

I hit the bottom of the stairs with a thud.  I smash through the door at the foot of the risers.  My head bounces off the concrete in the basement and I kick the punching bag with an out strewn foot.  The bag sways back and forth over my head, its shadow first blanketing me with its darkness, then moving away to let the darker black of the empty room take me.

I can feel the black closing in on me, I know my consciousness is fading.  The last thing I see before I go under is the white walls.

Pulsating.

Breathing.

Laughing at me.

 

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