Broken Blue Balloons (Islamic Story) ON HOLD

The war has started

Chapter 1

I walked over to the man that was selling them. I grabbed a few cents from my pocket that I always kept there, just in case I was going to buy it again. Like I did, on and endlessly, countless times. I greeted the man and he nodded, because he knew me. I was the one that visited often after all.

"The blue one?" he asked before I got to say anything. I nodded and held out the money.

"Like always" I said, giving him the cash. He looked at me for a second.

"Which one do you want?" he asked me. I didn't even look up at them.

"It doesn't matter" I said. He raised an eyebrow, not understanding.

"Blue is blue. They all have the same size, same colour and same ending. Why would I make a difference in them?" I asked him while he was handing me one of them. He nodded after a few seconds, finally realizing what I said.

"You are very good with metaphors, you know that?" he said. I didn't say anything but turned around and walked away, continuing my steps towards the 'bluest' thing I'd ever seen. When I found the place I always went to, I sat down. The cold sand made me feel cold immediately but I didn't mind. I kind of liked it. As if the cold was allowing for my thoughts to freeze. It was one of the best feelings I'd ever felt. One of the most deadliest, but also magnificently alive feeling. It was haunting me, hurting me, but I kept on searching for it. I kept on finding it. I looked over at the sea. It was beautiful, yet terrifying. When you were far enough, it was beautiful. When you were near, it could be your end. It could hurt you, breathe you in and never let you go out. It could let you drown, forever, without a return. Without an apologise, without an explanation. I looked over at my side. The balloon was one of the scariest blue. It looked inviting, welcoming. It was the colour of the mind and is essentially soothing. It affects you, in different ways possible. It would stimulate clear thoughts. Everyone liked it, it was the colour of the sky after all. Little do they know that its also the coldest and unfriendliest colour. With one drop of black it could be destroyed. It could destroy. The sky could turn into the scariest being and people would run away from it, trying to find somewhere to hide. It could invite you, and then turn its back to you in a heartbeat. That's why you shouldn't trust blue. You shouldn't trust. I felt the wind flowing through my hair, letting it move all around, as if it was trying to get away. I grabbed the pin I always carried with me and brought it closer to the balloon. It was on its brightest, inviting, welcoming. I slightly touched the balloon with the end of the pin and without a second thought, I let it go through it. The blue changed immediately, without a warning. I looked at what was rest from it. Nothing, other than dark blue pieces of blue. It was the time of it. It was starting. It was the war of broken blue balloons..

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Random Fact: Blue is the colour I dislike the most, even though I love watching the sky.

Salaam guys; just to clear up things. This is indeed an Islamic romance story, just in case you were wondering. Tell me what you thought of the first chapter!