Live in Color

one - black

I have to admit: the fact that over two hundred seventeen year olds are packed into one room and not one of them is daring to make a noise frightens me in more ways than one. The large population of sweaty teenagers squished into a humid gymnasium-like room makes the air unbearably stuffy and smelly as well. People are too close to my liking, the small space making awkward touches inevitable. It'd help if I at least knew the people that are making me claustrophobic, but I know almost none. The only thing I know is that we all share the same seventeenth birthday.

Light chatter had filled the room merely moments ago, but that was before. Before the lights dimmed. Before the doors were locked. Before officers lined up in front of the stage. Before the obnoxious click of heels made up the only sound of the room, bouncing off the tall walls. Before she stepped onto stage and silenced every single kid in the room with one raise of a sharp eyebrow.

Now, all of our eyes are trained on her. We've been waiting for this since birth, the day our questions would finally be answered and our prayers answered. As soon as this is over, we will walk out into the world and let faith play its part, to somehow, someday come in contact with our soulmate.

To see our world in color.

"We are gathered here today as a celebration," the woman says, her lips breaking out into a smile, instantly making all of our bodies sag in relief. I see the girl next to me explode in a blinding grin as well. "I hope you forgive our lack of air conditioner," a rumble of laughter sounds through the room, "But we're only going to be taking up a bit of your time, so bare with us."

"My name is Mrs. Moroe, I work with the city to consult with rebels or cases gone wrong with halves, but I also take some time out of my day to talk to people like you. Today you all turn seventeen, which means that faith has begun your path to finding your other half. I'm sure you've all heard the stories, no doubt about it. You all know what will happen when you come in contact with your other half."

I close my eyes, taking in Mrs. Moroe's words. "Right now, you are half of who you really are. Your other half, the one you are destined to be with, is somewhere out there. Maybe he or she is in this room! You'll know before you're twenty-five; there have been very few recorded cases where someone has not find their second half by then, so don't worry. Once you touch your other half, just the simple brush of skin, your world will explode into color."

Mumbles explode in the room, but is silenced as soon as Mrs. Moroe puts her hand up. She's still smiling, though, and it's actually a genuine smile. She continues, "Finding your other half is truly a completing experience. You will forget what it's like to feel sadness with them by your side, and your world in an explosion of color."

Up until I was six, every time I would ask my mom what colors looked like, she'd tell me that explaining that to me would be like explaining to a deaf person what music sounds like. The only reason she stopped telling me that was because I was quick to understand that I wasn't going to be getting a different answer anytime soon so I just quit asking.

I didn't get it. I still don't.

I know two colors: shades of black and white. Of course there's also the matter of black-tinted whites and white-tinted blacks; it's not completely bland. Sometimes I'm graced with seeing the sun set and watching the grey that emerges in the sky, slowly blending into the impending black and washing away the white in the sky. It's not going to be like this forever, I know. We've been taught ever since pre-school that one day I will see the world differently. In color.

Whatever 'color' is.

My mom says color is beautiful. Every 'whole' person I've met says it's the best thing that's ever happened to them. I can't relate, though. I can't imagine my world looking anyway different than it does now. Apparently, there a hundreds of different colors. Everything I see now that is black and white, almost all of it is actually a color.