Rainbow

• Shannon Burns, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2016

Red. Often, she thought her favourite colour was red. Red was love, and anger, and hot headedness, and being too stubborn to take no for an answer. It was passion. It was strawberries, and cordial, and an icy pole on a hot summer’s day. It was noise when it was at its loudest, and a firetruck zooming on by.
Other days, she favoured yellow. Yellow was the warmth of sunshine, and the promise of a better tomorrow. It was happiness, and joy, and contentment. It was friendship, and laughter, and lemon flavoured everything. It was the daisy chains, and bananas that made her smile.
Sometimes, she preferred pink. Pink was to feel pretty, and to wear her best perfume. It was hours’ worth of perfecting eyeshadow, and rosy cheeks. It was the giddy feeling of a first love, and the bedroom walls of her childhood.
Green. Some days, she liked green the best. Green was the grass, and the trees, and an escape into nature. It was treetop adventures, and scavenger hunts. It was spearmint toothpaste, and the vegetables she knew she was supposed to eat. It was feeling healthy, and on top of the world. It was the colour of the most beautiful pair of eyes she’d ever seen.
She had always held a soft spot for purple. Purple was moody, and magical. It was the promise that something new, and exciting, and completely out of the ordinary was about to happen. It was warm, and it was cosy. Purple was grapes, and passionfruit. It was her mum’s favourite of all the colours.
No one else seemed to like orange, but she did. Orange was fires, and dancing flames. It was having courage, and being strong enough to try again. It was defying what she was told, and it was standing up for herself. It was sunsets, and paintings, and the feeling of warmth, and of shelter.
Then, she thought, she liked blue the best. Blue was oceans, and waves. It was clear and cloudless skies and a refreshing drink when the weather got hot. It was poolside games, and baby boys just born. It was blueberries and bubble-gum, and the rain as it fell softly with a pitter patter, onto the tin roof.
Red. Yellow. Pink. Green. Purple. Orange. Blue. When asked, she gave a different answer each time, and she always meant the answer she gave, if only for that moment in time, but the truth was, she didn’t have a favourite colour. She loved a spectrum. She loved the rainbow.