Hot berry makes your eyes squint and water just at the sight of it. The scarlet velvet that is gentle yet fierce like a polar bear. It’s white fur stained with red rage; victims blood; which cries out for the least bit attention. The color rising up turning into a dark purple like a bruise that has been inflicted by a loved one. It is the color of passion and hate which makes people lose their minds and find their brilliance. People might say it is a cursed color luring out the blood thirsty zombies from the corners of your mind ready to attack at the slightest turn towards negativity. An awful world, a scary world, where the exiled angles go to release their venom and to feed on all the sorrow filled hearts. That deep purple venom that seeps into our world and kills all happiness, all of your favorite dreams, the last bit of hope that would have helped you tell your mom that you need help. You can’t fight it alone. The colors can just be too overwhelming, rising up ghostly memories from your past. Ones that you want to forget like the time your father came home late, his hand clutching the deep purple bottle of whisky. Temptation. You hate that color. The one that takes over your loved ones, steals them from you. It promises you a way out of all of your problems, your fears, but in the end it turns on you like a sister, who promised never to tell, you try to believe her, you might even, telling yourself that it will be different this time. But it never is. The color that has turned you into a pessimistic person, without inspiration, without happiness. Someone who was was someone, but now is a shell, a housing for a demon. Your mothers shakes her head as she picks you up from school. “You have changed.” She says, ‘no’ I want to say, ‘the colors have.’