𝖊𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊

𝖔𝖓𝖊

ok clearly i kinda lied, i changed the first chapter a lot and i like it so i hope you like it too! read, vote, comment and enjoy!

***

I don't like my last name, Black.

Well, I have conflicted feelings towards my last name.

In art, black is the presence of all colors. In physics, black is the absence of color. If I were to pick a definition, I would go by physics.

Colors did nothing for me. They don't brighten up my life, my world. Black would be better, and it's what I prefer. It's all I've known, and I'd rather it stay that way, in my life and in what I believe.

Colors may exist for everyone else. But for me? There is no such thing. It is only black.

Colors were simply a word. Emotions, feelings are just words. That's it; nothing else. You can expect it from me, but you'll be disappointed.

Like right now.

 I came back from school to see the house burnt, damaged beyond repair. The smell of fire and smoke still lingered in the air, a scent of my childhood. It brought up memories of her smoking, and calling me over whenever she decided she was finished. She would stub her cigarettes on my skin.

Except, there is no more of her.

"I'm sorry to say this but your mother's body burned in the fire. Do you have any other relatives?" A police officer - her face paints itself into a sympathetic frown - asks me gently.

"I don't know."

You're lucky I'm taking care of you, that you're living in this house. No one wants you. You are a mistake.

And yet she has burnt to death, fitting. God has let me live, and her to die. What does that say?

They were looking for a reaction, but they wouldn't get anything. I learned to repress my emotions at a young age, emotions were for the weak. Steel walls built up around my heart, electric wiring decorating the walls, hurting anyone that tried to get in. My heart would be protected from the world, from life. If I bothered to let anyone in, they would squeeze it, they would destroy it, and they would destroy me. It was the only reason I was still sane, the only reason I was still alive. Because I didn't let myself feel.

"Hmm." She knitted her brows, chewing her lip. "I'll bring you to the police station, and we'll see if you have any relatives. We can pick some food on the way."

Hm, well what am I supposed to do with that?

Cry? Fat chance of that happening.

"Okay." I simply say, following her to the police car.

She and another officer get into the car, in the front, while I sit in the back.

"There's a McDonalds nearby, would you like some kid?" The male officer turns around and asks me, not unkindly.

I've never had McDonalds. She said I didn't deserve to have such luxury. She also said I didn't deserve to eat.

It's a pity you need food to live, and everyone knows in this neighborhood. Otherwise, I would have let you die a long time ago.

Well, she's dead now.

"Yeah, thank you." 

Soon, we pull up to the drive thru. They ask what I want. And well isn't this awkward? I tell them: fries, chicken nuggets, and coke. Make everything large.

And now, I'm in the police station, sitting in the chair of the female police officer's room, eating my beloved fries and nuggets. Oh yeah, her name's Tessa Smith. That's a nice name.