FLEX FRIDAY💖. Four pink walls.

 

     Maya sat crouched on her bed, leaning partially against the wall. She had just awoken not long ago, the day was getting bright and so Maya figured it was almost 7 am. She knew she'd wait at least 30 minutes in that position before the door opens and the switch turns on.

     Maya didn't love feeling too cold, but she loved the feeling of cold, she loved the season of cold. She loved it a million times than the hot season. She loved things she was able to control, and thus her hatred for the generator, her slight hatted for her caretaker, her hatred for her room.

     As much as Maya loved cold a million times than heat, she loved the light a million times than the dark. She loved the moments in her room when it was flooded with light from the two white florescent bulbs that looked like lamps glued to her white ceiling.

     White. Her ceiling was white. Maya had not decided if she loved white or not. Once, she laid on her bed facing her ceiling before the light was taken for the night. She thought on the white colour of the ceiling. When she was younger, she was taught that white meant peace. What was peace? A person? A mere name? A feeling? If it was a feeling, did she have it? She remembered the white coat her older brother bought for her from Meadle, it was hers now, did that mean she had peace?

     When she learnt culture a while back, she stumbled on a book with the asian traditional culture and some mournings were done in white apparel. If white was truly peace, why did they wear it for mourning? Did they think it would confort them and give them peace during their mourning?

      Maya knew for a long time as she grew that colours weren't what they were said to mean. Blue was the colour of love, yet, red was worn for every Valentine's day, Red was danger,  was love really that dangerous?

     When the light comes on, her caretaker would come in, in her pink pajamas, pink darker than the four walls of Maya's room. Maya made a decision about pink. Pink was happy to her, but then, there were different shades of pink. Aside the types on pink on her wall and on Aunt Caro's pajamas, she has seen other pinks outside the house. She loved the bright pink on her walls and hated the deep ones on Aunt Caro's pyjamas. Maybe because it was faded, maybe because it was Aunt Caro's.

     Maya loved her room, the pink walls gave her happiness. The white ceiling signified her peace. She was happy and at peace in her room, but only with the condition of light. When there was light, she could watch the white ceilings and the pink walls and make further enquiries and conclusion of colours. But if there was no light, it was dark, and the bright colours of her room were useless.

     Maya was sure - "If a man walks in darkness, he stumbles because the light is not in him"

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