When I think back to the very start of my life, I remember seeing color for the first time; I saw color drifting around me like butterflies swimming in the wind. Orange, red, black, gray, pink, yellow. Everywhere. These colors moved around me faster than a metal bird in the sky.

The first color I saw was a bright, powerful yellow that violently erupted into red and orange. These colors thrusted me back with such force that I fell to my feet and onto my hands. Looking down, I saw crimson. Crimson everywhere.

When I stood up again, my eyes were filled with spectacular colors. The sight before my eyes was simply beautiful, orange, red, and yellow could be seen for miles. The entire horizon was painted with balls of color as bright as fire. But the life of these colors were short. Soon, they were replaced by ashy gray and dead black. I saw more clearly that these new colors were in the shape of clouds. I could also taste. I could taste the metal, sharp air around me. It filled my lungs and made me choke. I was surrounded by the dark clouds and I found myself unable to breathe. I choked, gagged, my lungs were filled with a lifetime of smoke, even at my young age. Everything had been so beautiful, I had felt happiness. It’s only at rock bottom when you are truly free. So, as I began to wonder what was occurring around me, I realized that I was alive. So I began to cry. I cried because I knew that I would never be able to see the colors again. Yes, I was alive. But I might as well be buried, because I lost the only source of happiness I have ever known.