Spectrum ⇒ Avengers [ 1 ]

The Colours

The colours have been there for as long as I can remember.

The first recollection of them I have is as an infant, barely walking, clinging to the leg of the kitchen table. It's a hazy memory- early ones always are- but when the door slams, the vivid peppermint colour that comes with it stays with me. It's always sound- and no two sounds are quite the same. Later on, I remember remarking, in a surprised tone, to a friend- "Oh, your kitchen door is purple." -much to the confusion of both her and her parents, who stared from me to their very clearly white-painted door.

The sounds of the hospital are sharp and tangible. Navy, the doctors and nurses shouting. Storm-cloud grey, the sound of the wheels of the hospital bed squeaking on the polished floor. Someone throws up a fountain of orange and magenta to my right, and a little girl is screaming silver. I moan, a tiny whimper of pain at the flashing colours in my eyes, and it comes out a distorted, sickly green.

"It's okay honey, you're going to be okay." One of the nurses reassures me. Her voice is soft yellow, like a candle flame, and it cuts through the paint-pallet mess in my eyes. I stare at her wordlessly, wondering how any of this can be okay. I don't know what's happening. I don't feel anything at all- just a hollow void where my sense of touch should be filling in. "Deep breaths, that's a good girl. Can you tell me your name?"

The trolley I'm on changes direction, swinging through a set of doors. "Brynn."
"Brynn, that's a lovely name." It smells of antiseptic and lemon. "Do you have a second name?"
She's got me at a loss for words, and I panic, wriggling around. The doctors voices are dark green, but I can't hear what they're saying.
"Brynn! Brynn, it's okay, it's okay." She grasps my arm and I freak out even more, flailing under her grip. "I need some help over here! Brynn, calm down, we're not going to hurt you, please-"

A doctor, holding a clear plastic mask comes over, pushing it over my gasping mouth. I choke, spit, my eyes filling with tears.
"Count backwards, honey. Ten, nine, eight, seven..."
The darkness closes over me before she even makes it to six.

It's an ungainly waking up process- the pillows under my head are too full, too plumped to really be comfortable. My neck aches. Everything aches. The soft sound of chatter is peach.
I crack open one eye to see a tall woman with dark eyes and coffee-coloured skin like mine checking through a clipboard, and I try to call out to her and get her attention. Her white coat marks her as a doctor- and that's when I panic, attempting to snap awake, only to find I can't move my arms.

"Mmmmnnn!" I shriek, getting her attention finally.
"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay." She's English, and her words are violet, and neither fact calms me.
"Let me go!" I gaze frantically around to see my wrists are restrained to the sides of the bed.
"Okay! Okay. You were thrashing about so much that we thought you'd hurt yourself." She places one hand on my wrist and I flinch, snapping my eyes shut again. A second later, and the arm is free- and then the other one is, too. "My name is Doctor Millet. You're going to be fine."
"What happened?" I splutter, rubbing my arm in the place she touched me, and noticing that she's keeping her distance.

"I was hoping you'd be able to explain that." She gestures to her side, and I see it- a small table has been smashed to pieces, split in two. One of the legs is lying by the door. The curtains, which I presume block my view to the rest of the hospital, are closed.
"Explain how your furniture got broken?" I ask slowly. There are splinters on the carpet. Doctor Millet squints hard at my face for a moment, and then sighs.

"You were badly bruised and bleeding profusely. We believe at some stage in the past your ribs were broken, but they've healed since." The violet darkens to purple- her tone has changed to brisk professionalism. "A farmer found you in the middle of the road and brought you in. There are ligature marks on your wrists and ankles, but nothing too deep to worry about." She squints at me again. I stare back. "You were tied up." She explains bluntly. "For some time, it seems."