Behind the Walls

The building is a tall candied strawberry, it glints in a powerful way. In a colour that can never fade, an exuberant scarlet. Next to it, is a bright slicker yellow one, it’s edges are curved and each window is circular and gleaming. Through the windows, one grey desk sits in bright white light. On the desk is a complex yet simple spotlight that towers over a thick stack of fresh paper. As I look right, I notice that every room is the same. With the same thickness of paper and the exact brightness of the light. The street is lined with buildings similar to the first two. In apple reds, royal blues, and banana yellows. Followed by a little tea pink and pale green. Everything is shiny and immaculate, perfect without a single flaw.

The roads are wide and smooth, they are all painted a glossy grey, the cars drive in sync, stopping and going at the same time. I observe the streets on a long mechanical ramp, it carries me through the city. I look up at the sky, it’s holographic. Each cloud is light and rectangular. Up ahead, a dark red sun sits like a building block. Violet and dark blue squares mesh against the sun. On the side of the sun, there is one red tile in the background of pale blue. A rip in the sky? My heart skips a beat. I hop off the ramp and get seated on a long cushioned metal bench. Underneath the rip is a dark furious red, with smudges of black and white. I try to ignore this, I try to bury all this molten lava underneath my crackling skin. I get up and walk beside the ramp, a man with dark combed hair speeds in front of me. His suit is onion-coloured and his tie is coal and sharp. I wave silently and he turns, to avoid my friendly gaze. 

I continue to walk, past long iron trees, painted with beige gloss. Their ersatz glare is all I see as I travel down the sidewalk. Their leaves are lime green in the center, rimmed with amazon green on the edges. 

In front of me, a ribbon of dark black metal houses cling onto the tangerine coloured streets, and right in the center, there is number 2349, my house. I slide onto the turbo ramp and watch as the world around me blurs into shiny colours. Then the ramp slows down and everything becomes clear and sharp again. The colours form into bold buildings and people. In front of me, lies a concrete giant. The walls are thick and stable and surrounded by large bright green shrubs. The windows are rectangular opaque. The fence is dark grey and lustrous, I notice a crumbling brick in the wall, dust flies off of it in the screeching wind.

I reach into my pocket for some tape, then I crouch and examine the damage in the fence, it tears more in the wind until there's a big hand-sized hole in the metal fence. I move closer, checking if the tape can actually repair the damage. I feel shocked as I process what is in front of me. Through the hole, there are endless plains of grey. The sky is red like before and there are dozens of smoking factories. There is a single pool of water but it is black and greasy, not a single sign of movement. I resist the temptation to travel to the other side.

“Life is better here!” A masculine voice blares through the speaker, I turn around to see a red-headed man advertising Block City. My mind is a hurricane, thousands of thoughts jumbled together. Smoke runs through the hole. The image of the blood-red sky appears in my head, so dark and frightening. The lake is as black as a long oily snake slithering slyly. I sigh and stand up. 

“Life is better here!” I repeat with equal positivity.

I take the black camouflage tape and strap it over the hole and watch as it changes colour to the subtle grey. I am taping the wound in my brain together. Concealing it. Remembering that it is better. 

“Life is better here,” I mumble as I walk back into my house.