narrative-explosion of colour

 the whole world is grey, person finds old torch that brings colour, stop working then explodes everything into colour and whoop everyone is nice

30MIN

Same old, same old. The world functioned as if everyone's movements were manufactured by some robot or other. There was no life in human movements-and animal wise? Well, they say there's no wildlife in places where a lot of deaths have occurred. 

This was the morose, monotone world that Sally Creek had always lived in. Every day she would blearily open her eyes to the same breakfast, with the same dull colour, and walk down the somber street to her prison of a school. Often she was grateful for being one of the only ones to feel emotion-but sometimes the terror that crawled up her back when seeing the barbed wire, the prison guards and the concrete backyard was something she would rather have not felt.

Yes, beneath her conventional stone-face Sally was sure she was the only one she knew who had such powerful emotions swirling beneath the surface. After all, most of her peers never even blinked when brutally punished for disobedience. Perhaps the miserable dullness that plagued the society had seeped into people's bloodstreams.

Perhaps she was the only one who felt pain, felt emotions. Perhaps she was the only one who wanted to know about life before the new regime.

Sally's eyes slid coolly over to the principal, beady eyes glowering over the swarm of students through his sunglasses. She would give him the credit-he did indeed spike fear right inter her palpitating heart every time he turned in her direction. 

The recess bell droned throughout the halls, a long low whine (bells that tingled were now considered too sanguine for the new society). Students filed out of the classrooms in an orderly fashion. No one rushed to greet their friends-no one needed friends if they didn't have any emotions. Sally quickened her pace discreetly to catch up, slipping on her bland face as she passed the armed guards. However, as soon as the trail of students turned the corner Sally abruptly swerved off in the other direction. No student even batted an eye. She could barely hide her shock at the reckless act, hastening her pace to slip into a closet unseen. 

As soon as the door swung shut, a relieved sigh that had been bubbling up in her throat escaped as the thick tension dissipated. Sad how a closet could provide such solace-but that was how things went in this quotidian society now. 

A gleam near the pile of mops caught her eye. Timidly, Sally's hand wandered over to brush the mops away. Oh, merely a run-of-the-mill torch. Sally turned away, heart sinking. But there was something unusual. She whipped her head back around. The pallid yellow of the torch was almost resplendent in the moudly, humid closet. Yes, the yellow-a colour!

Open mouthed, Sally snatched the torch and fumbled feebly at the buttons. A click-and rays of light were cast on the cleaning tools. Sally muffled her stunned shriek, eyelids shrinking back more and more as she swung the torch around. Every surface the light shone on, a vivid colour glared back at her. Her eyes darted, trying to recall the names of these new hues.

However, in her excitement she failed to notice the torch trembling in her hands-and not because her own hands were shaking. Oh no, this was all by itself.

A bang. A flash. And as the smoke cleared, Sally stuffed her strangled coughs into her blazer as she waved it away. But the sight yet to greet her would by far be the most peculiar, even after everything that had happened.