The Colors I See

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Ginger Faith!
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The Colors I See

Post by Ginger Faith! »

Saturday mornings are normally composed of sleeping until noon, eating brunch, and texting friends. But Saturdays, for me, are far from normal. Eight A.M. and stuck in a hospital where people in coloured gowns walk around freely.
Both children and adults alike wear plain green hospital gowns--labels, one dying girl called it. But everyone knows labels don’t give you the whole story.
Moss green—label: Sick. Dying.
There is more to us than meets the eye, my room partner once told me. She was right--when i'd first walked in not too long ago, i thought they were freaks. Freaks with shiny heads and freaks who were weak. Frail. Defeated.
And that wasn't me. Not at all. I was known as the fighter--the survivor. Not even a thing like COPD, chronic obstructive pulmonary disease--the doctors said, or lung disease could slow me down.
But like my room partner, that thought faded as the days passed and the strength left my body, and I, too, began to believe in the labels. And soon, i heard the meaning of those labels in my thoughts, echoing when i spotted those colours.
Sky blue—label: Male nurses. Cute ones you could look at, but never have.
They come and go, check on IV's that are inserted in our arms, check our pulse, which seems to quicken with every breath, and smile with pity in their eyes.
Sometimes, if I'm in a group with other green-gowns, those beautiful sky blues flirt subtly, but I notice.
I notice a lot of things i wished i noticed before.
Perrywinkle Pink—label: Female nurses. The people who care.
Sometimes I think about the way my life used to be on Saturdays. How I was allowed to sleep until noon and how i could eat breakfast during lunch. How i could care less about life threatening things, and how i could live care-free. But now, I see things in more than black and white. Those shades of gray show the people in the moss-coloured gowns and how they suffer, how they know about both sides of life; the good and the bad.
These nurses, however, chose to work with the dying. And nothing confused me more. Their smiles were bright, their eyes showed a kind of love I couldn't create and their hearts were pure.
Green, blue, pink.
Three colours that mean the world to me on Saturday mornings.
It's too bad that during every visit, one green-gown is missing.
"Time to go home," pink-gown addresses me and motions for the door to the world. I smile--not because i'm free from the confines of my bed, or the confines of a sad place, but because there are more colours to see, more colours to figure out.
And because I can shed my own colour of green and not fit under a label.
dangel angello

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Post by dangel angello »

Wow really clever!

I love the way the character has a disconnection with the hospital staff around her, as if she doesn't see them as human because it's either easier for her to treat them as 'colours' or because she does literally have a problem.

I also love how she has this relation to colour and a type of need for it. it highlights how our base needs can be the most important and you'd probably never realise how vital colour is until you're in this character's situation.


Well done, a lovely read!
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Thistle
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Re: Newspaper Story:

Post by Thistle »

AMAZING. :-)
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Sierra196

Re: Newspaper Story:

Post by Sierra196 »

Great job Gin! That was an AMAZING story. Very different in the best way. :D
Ginger Faith!
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Re: Newspaper Story:

Post by Ginger Faith! »

Thanks a lot to everyone!
xfaywitchx

Re: Newspaper Story:

Post by xfaywitchx »

wow!!!!!!!!!!!! that ia soooo cool u totally have talent flow with and let your creative soul develop and blossom into the
biggest star ever seen that was so amazing very clever, intelligent and amazin love u xx : )
Ginger Faith!
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Re: Newspaper Story:

Post by Ginger Faith! »

Thank you very much Fay. I am actually a writer, so i believe i'm helping that blossom part ;)
And LOVE YOU TOO! :) :)

-Ginger
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