Inspiration: “Colors” by Halsey

“You were red and you liked me because I was blue / You touched me and suddenly I was a lilac sky /And you decided purple just wasn’t for you.”

I remember.

I remember the day we first meet. It was a day in late spring; everyone was already bored with the new blossom of flowers and becoming annoyed with the constant chirping of the blue jays.

The vintage bookstore was slow on this particular day. Well, it always was since the invention of Kindles and the birth of children who think that reading an object that has paper and ink words is a punishment more terrifying than death.

The store smelled like old coffee and faded Coca-Cola stains. The walls were covered in wallpaper with old-looking strips the color of frogs. Along with the wallpaper, dark wooden shelves hung everywhere filled with books. On the floor were books in carts, tables, crates, etc. Books were everywhere, consuming the small room with excitement and knowledge, only for me.

Or at least I thought.

I was looking through one of the book stacks on the table when someone hit me on my shoulder pretty hard. No, really HARD. I turned around to start swinging at the jerk who hit the life out of my shoulder when I was welcomed to see the face of an angel. Brown eyes, a warm hue of brown skin, pink smile, dimples, the whole package! I was frozen and confused but you broke that by saying, “Do you know where I can find a copy of Little Women?”

I remember.

I remember our first date. You said dress in my most fancy outerwear and leave the entertainment and the date up to you. We’d only known each other a week; we texted here and a little there, distracted with family and our jobs. But still the excitement of seeing you, face to face, just you and me, overwhelmed my being. You were wonderful to me, in looks, personality, everything. I wanted you to be mine.

With my dazzling blue dress and silver shoes, I skipped to our date location. The building clearly read the words “Red Lobster” in glowing red letters. I smiled as I walked inside. You were already there, in a sexy suit and tie. Your smiled added the finishing touches. “You ready for the date?” You asked as you grabbed my hand. You pulled me away from the front desk and the restaurant and into a corner into the waiting room, holding the tank of lobsters. You knelt down with me and looked inside the tank. I was frozen and very confused and you noticed this time. But your only reply was, “We’re going to bet which lobster will be crucified first!”

I remember.

I remember the day you left me. It was a bitter winter morning and the bed felt cold, which was unusual. I turned over to find the following: messy sheets, a missing coat, and a small note. I opened it and tears ran down my face as I read the words I always dreaded you to say. “This isn’t working. I just don’t love you the same.” My sobs filled my empty apartment as you, who knows where, was lost in the winter storm, never to be seen or heard of again.

But I still remember.

—By Amber P., 15, Georgia