A kaleidoscope of colours danced in front his eyes. Red, blue, black stood out prominently. It seemed those colours will never be erased from his memory.
The rage held back by a dam. The sad tears mixed with it. The darkness that enveloped his mind.
Among this was the flash of yellow every time her face came to mind, orange sundress flowing around her feet as she spun around in the glowing sun.
But it was gone as soon as it had come, his memories of her fading rather quickly. Maybe it was the pills.
There was the heavy, green envy prickling like cacti, upon seeing the others that thought they loved her more than he.
How dare they?
The pink that too tinged his fondest memories of her, was there to remind him of love that was once so strong.
But then its neighbouring colour, purple, on the skin reminds him why he needs the pills, why he gave up love, why he is better in the darkness, why he is locked in an asylum.
He stood up and clutched the bars, it made him think of holding her hands so tight he wouldn't lose her at all.
Oh the irony.
He pulled back from the thick bars holding him back, clenching and unclenching his fists. The ones responsible for all this.
The habit of clenching lived on him like a parasite trying take away his anger but never completely successful. It lived within his fists which had a mind of their own.
When the first contact of skin on skin came, it was like breathing, and breathing is involuntary.
We aren't aware of it, are we?
Her broken brown eyes were so full of betrayal. Wait, was that because she betrayed him or he betrayed her? Who was the first to break away from their bond? Did it even matter now?
Her soft pink lips had become stained red. Her wrists blue and face black. As she clutched her stomach in pain, he bent down to hold her.
"Why?! What is wrong with you?!" She screamed her voice hoarse like brown sand paper scratching a rough, black board, as she looked into his soulless black irises.
"Don't touch me! Ever again! Don't come any closer! I don't need your help. I can... I can take care of myself. Just leave. Please. Just... Please." That was the first time.
She had understood why afterwards. That is why she never screamed for help.
He walked away, only to come back to her sleeping figure an hour later. The hair was falling over her face. Her blue blackened face. And it broke him so he cried and cried.
Large sobs broke from him and then he felt arms around his broad shoulders holding him as his eyes surged. The night was the first and he thought it was over but his fists didn't think so.
Another memory surges up, rising. Consequences, that's what they said. The red and blue flashed around and around in the darkness. The silver bangles around the wrists.
The white bed held an unmoving body.
You see, it was her birthday. There were too many people, too many huggers, well-wishers, hand shakers, dancers, teenagers and drinks. Oh god the drinks.
The stuff burned his throat but no pain went away. He saw the green, blue and red flash from the disco ball. And that's exactly how he felt. Envious, Sad and Angry.
So he tracked her down, found her with a guy too tall for her, too dressed in black and leather. Wait wasn't that what he wore most of the time?
Never mind. He grabbed her wrist and dragged her off. She was too drunk to realize what was happening until the first fist came.
Her screams were drowned by the pounding music that he hated but his fists were glad. He doesn't still know who burst in and found them collapsed on the floor.
Blood all over the paralysed body and his hands. Any idiot could figure out what happened. He was pried away. He clung on too long anyway.
That's what the doc said. He was possessive, angry, clingy, depressed, sad, dependant, jealous, envious and... Insecure.
"Yes, you are insecure."
"You felt she would easily leave you after seeing how depressed you are, how dependant you are of her and how jealous. You tried to ground her with you. You tried to make her feel the same.
But then you just got angry. You lost control. It's all because of your insecurities."
"I am...in-insecure. I am insecure."
And that phrase has hauntingly repeated itself in my mind, jumped out of my mouth, bounced off the walls and into my ears, back in my head.
I am insecure. And there was no colour for that.