It Hurts | ✓

Chapter 2

When I walked through my front door, I was fighting the urge to cry. My two older siblings were in the house, and I was going to have to tell them.

Why did this sort of thing have to happen to me?

I heard about people like this on the news, and little Amber had just wished and hoped that it would never happen to her.

But of course it had to.

"Hiya, Amber!" Kacey called when I turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

"Hey," I replied monotonously.

She emerged from the living room and frowned when she saw the grumpy and disheartened look on my face.

"Something's different," she said, still frowning and still staring at me.

"You're darn right," I muttered. Suddenly she gasped.

"Y-Your necklace! It's gone!" This caused shuffling from the next room and suddenly Ollie burst into the hallway.

"Did I hear that right?" He questioned.

"Amber's necklace broke off!"

"I know it broke off," I replied stiffly.

"Aw, Amber, don't cry. What's wrong?"

"I-I'm not- c-c-crying," I stammered.
I felt so stupid. I was seventeen years old, and sobbing like a baby in front of my older siblings.

"What happened? Why is this a bad thing?" Kacey asked, enveloping me in a hug.

"Well, it's someone at school, and they haven't exactly been one of the friendliest people to me," I told them. "Besides, they didn't see the colour. But their necklace broke off, and the quotes matched. What does that mean?" I sniffled.

"Sounds like a fuck up in the system," said Ollie bluntly. "I don't know what you'll have to do."

"I don't know either," my sister admitted.

"I just want to see that colour again," I whispered.

"I know. It's amazing. I remember when I saw it for the first time too. Now I hate the black and white."

"Same," my brother agreed. "I'm sorry, sis."

•~•~•~•

When I finally fell asleep after hours of staring at my room thinking of the colour, I dreamt of the colour. Of course I did.

I was standing in my bedroom, and it was breathtaking. Colour, actual colour, was everywhere. I had always tried to imagine what the world would look like in colour, but it was nothing like how it had actually been.

Everything was so bright. And so beautiful. And then George was there.

"Do you see it too?" I breathed. He frowned.

"What are you talking about?"

And the dream shattered, and I sat up, and my vision showed black and white. Goddamned black and goddamned white. I sighed. I wanted to see it again. Lying back down, I hoped to dream of the colour again. No such luck. You could never get what you wanted in this place, and that wasn't just me whining.

I got up, got dressed, and went downstairs. Mum, dad, and Kacey were all already up and sitting at the kitchen table. Kacey stopped talking abruptly when she saw me. I glanced at her, and she stared back at me with wide, slightly scared eyes.

"You alright there?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Yeah, I, um, I was just-"

"Telling mum and dad about yesterday." I reached into my pocket and threw my necklace onto the table.

"Oh my goodness," my mother breathed, picking it up and studying the part where it should have been connected.

"Yeah, I matched it. I saw the colour. But it's an idiot from school. You remember that bastard George Palmer I told you about who got his stupid friend to trip me up for no valid reason other than he's a dick?" I sighed.

"Amber, don't use words like that," my father scolded, without looking up from his newspaper.

"Dad, I'm seventeen," I argued. "It's not like any of us are kids. Unless you count Kacey," I said.

"Oi! I'm two years older than you!"

"Yet you still act about twelve," I answered, but grinned at her. She sighed and rolled her eyes before eventually returning it.

And then Ollie walked in looking sleepy, his brown bed-head hair sticking up in random directions.

I knew his hair was brown, because although none of us had seen it at the time, we were still taught colours in nursery.

And then I was thinking about them again. The colours. They made everything beautiful; they made me forget for a moment, just a moment, that the world was so cruel, and it looked like a wonderful, happy, utopia. It made everything look more beautiful, even George Palmer.

"Mornin'," Ollie said, grabbing a mug and the kettle.

"Morning, Ollie," I chuckled. "Don't you have to be at work in, like, five minutes?" I said, realising the time. My mum gave me a quizzical look. Why?

"And that's when you got to be at school," he laughed. Kacey adopted a similar look to mum's. Was I missing something?

But shit! Ollie was right. School.

"You're still late," I retorted.

"Except I'm not, because I don't have to go in till later. Ha. You're still late, though." He glanced at my mum. Was there some inside joke I was missing?
"I remember when I had school. Ugh. School sucks. Shame you still have to go. And, like, now." He snickered.

Twenty two years old and still got the mind of an eight year old. Wow, Ollie.

I snatched a bagel from the table and threw my rucksack over my shoulder.
"Bye!" I shouted. It was only after closing the front door, did I realise two things.

First, I was still in my slippers. Crud.

Second, it was Saturday. Wow. That explained a lot. Pretty thick of me, I know. Stupid Ollie.

I banged on the door, and it was opened eventually by Ollie, who was quite literally doubled over laughing at me. I shoved him so hard he tripped over some of my strewn shoes in the hallway, and he fell over. My turn to laugh. It looked so comical, big lanky Ollie flailing legs and arms as he fell.
I stepped over him, still in fits of giggles, and went back into my room.

My family, everyone. Good Lord.