All the Colors of the Sky

There are reasons we are living.

Reasons why the sky turns orange and pink and yellow at the same time,

Reasons why we have pets to make us happy,

Reasons why we travel, 

Reasons why we have family and friends,

Reasons why we have to see all the colors in the sky.

 The sky turns a bright purplish orange from my perch on the roof, a bruise staining the perfectly blue evening. My uncle’s footsteps echo all the way upstairs until he’s standing above me, covering the purple orange blob in the sky. 

“Blue,” His voice makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time, but I push strands of hair out of my face instead and walk away from him, down the ladder that leads downstairs. “Blue.” He stands on the roof, hands up in surrender, exasperated and angry. I don’t look my uncle in the eye and focus my attention to the blob in the sky. A smile plays on my lips as I jump into his arms, taking him by surprise. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” But those were lies. I told myself, told my family, lies-lies that I’d be fine. We walked to the front porch together after greeting the guests and sat on the porch swing, glasses of iced tea in hand. 

“So, Blue, I-” My uncle sets down his iced tea and stares out into the meadow, out into the faraway lands that I will be traveling. “I’m not sure if you’re ready for this.” We sit in silence, embracing the awkwardness between us, and wait. Aunt Alina opens the screen door and takes our glasses, watching me curiously. She exits the room, but not before leaving a ticket on my lap. The sky's the limit Blue. 

It isn’t long before I arrive at Heaven’s Cove. The train left yesterday when the sky still had a bruise, a stain across its lips. Maybe when uncle wakes up today and finds me gone, he will understand why I need to see something other than cows grazing the grasslands of our farm, find hope, and discover myself. I think this as the train halts by a small town with a few dilapidated buildings scattered among the overgrown weeds. People stare as I leave the train car, a backpack slung over my shoulder, ready to look for something I don’t even know I have.

Even though I am always in a rush, I stand still as the train pulls away, and stand there observing the ghostlike town, and a plastic bag carried away by the wind, drifting onto a nearby tree. Shudders trickle up my spine, tremors stabbing me in the back as I realize what I have done. I don’t think and run towards the forest, abandoning my Castle Oaks High School backpack in the middle of the street. 

Run. Running. That’s the only thing I am good at; running from fears, problems, life. In the forest, I get lost within the massive clumps of trees and try to circle my way back to the small town, but my skills only cause destruction and pain. Sitting down on a moss-covered tree trunk, I wonder what is to come. Wonder, what fills me with joy and drives me into depression- but it is wonder that saves me.

She climbs down the tree, her hair smelling like jasmine and daisies as she stands in front of me. She is my age, a young woman, standing before me.  

“The stars, they have lost the war today.” The girl pulls me up as she speaks and I rise along with her, following her gaze up at the cloudy sky. We stare at the emptiness a long while until she breaks the silence. 

“Ah, such sorrow. I was hoping my star would come today.” I am afraid to speak, so I won’t interrupt her honey-coated words, though I don’t understand anything she is saying. For a while, the girl begins to forget I’m still standing beside her and talks once more. 

“Oh, I forgot about my sheep. Perhaps they have had their moonlight the day after; I will be ever so distraught if they do not survive the night.” Her exclamation to the sky left her eyes to gaze upon me. 

“Sorry poor lost soul. Will you join me on my quest to find my sheep?” I remember the backpack lying on the dirt road, and my reservation at the inn, but I find myself nodding my head and later, walking along the narrow path through the forest. 

On the way, she calls to her sheep and I trail behind her, lost in thoughts of what I would do once I made it back home. The girl is still skipping happily without a care in the world; she is scary and beautiful at the same time. I don’t understand her, but she reads me like a book, opens every page, and takes her time. 

“Lost soul, do you mind if I tell you a story?”

“Can you stop calling me ‘lost soul’.” I feel tension rising inside my chest and I want to run away, but the girl holds my hand, holds it, and squeezes. 

“But that’s what you are; am I mistaken?” She tilts her head to one side, trying to see a new angle. 

“I can’t find it.”

“Find what?” The sky turns to a pale gray like it threw up all over itself. There are no sheep in the distance, so the girl leans against a rock and throws her hands in the air.

“But I never got to tell you my story, and I already found my star. So tell me, what can’t you find?” I hardly hesitate but it hurts when I speak. 

“I can’t find myself.”

“Blue, to find yourself you need to start looking.” I eye her with shock. She sees the gray sky and smiles. The clouds clear giving way to a purplish orange sky, a sunset peeking through the clouds.

“Can I listen to the story now?” There is no place except here, no moment besides now. The girl, my wonder, my friend, she lowers her hands.

“The stars, it all starts with the stars.” 

“No, it doesn’t.” I lean into her shoulder and continue.

“It begins with all the colors of the sky.”