I Am Red

• Claudia Butters, Grade 8
• Short Story
• 2009

I woke up, to see red; blood red, stained on the sheets of my bed, the fabric of my school shirt, the paint of my walls. It burst out like flames in my vision, burning my eyes, to red.

I rubbed my eyes furiously, hastily, trying to rid the red from my sight, but it wouldn't budge.

Worried, I jumped out of my bed, and dressed quickly, attempting to disregard all the red. The school shirt I wore felt uncomfortable on my skin, like it wasn't mine: it had been disowned.

I ran to the bathroom to brush my hair, and I saw red. My hair was dripping red ink, trickling down my shoulders, down my torso and legs, making a small glistening pool on the white tiles.

I brushed my dripping hair back behind my ears, then quickly washed my face. Looking into the mirror, my eyes being able to see clearly, I saw my face clearly. My eyes were swimming with a bright red, looking even brighter contrasting against my black pupils. The red swirled around my irises, making them like an illusion of red blood.

I walked out to the kitchen, and I was greeted by my parents. They seemed to be oblivious to all the red, and not noticing the fact, my eyes were red.

Eating my cereal, it was bitter and horrible to have, seeing the usually white milk red. My cereal was stained red from the milk, and I felt like I was drinking blood.

At school was the same: I was continously seeing red, and no one else appeared to notice, except me.

I screamed at my friend. I screamed at her for not seeing all the red. She thought I was sick.

I was not mad, or sick. I was't hallucinating, nor was I dreaming. I didn't have schritzophrenia, or any other mental disorder. I was sane, completely normal. There wasn't any difference between the red of the world and me. Excpet one. One difference so small, yet so large at the same time.

I am different.

I am unique.

I am everything different to the world, everything upside-down, turned around.

I am red.