Wow--This Isn't Some Dream?!

The trees are boring, and the grass—I see it every single day.            

I looked again, closer. It seemed the trees—

Wait, they were on fire! Yes, literal fire! Not just red, yellow and orange, the colors of Fall. No, Fall didn’t beautify these trees. Fire did. A gorgeous burning sensation, it pushed my lips up into a grin. As I admired it from my train car seat, I saw the grass wave like someone does with their hand when saying hi. I took notes.

The grass is purple, and the trees are on fire. Strange, but unusual. I wonder what the stars will be like tonight. I’ll look up in the sky and see blazing pink balls of gas way up above me, dancing—literally—as I wiggle my body in sync with their weird moves.

I ducked my head, looking subconsciously at everyone sitting around me and standing, holding onto one of the few metal poles. Thankfully, most were on their cellphones, but one mother was gently patting her child. I thought of telling her to look behind her at the purple grass and the fiery trees, but the woman seemed preoccupied with her cranky baby. So I put my head down. And stuffed my hands in the red and black checked hoodie that was my garb since Cons and I went shopping for new clothes one summer before senior year.  

I rummaged in my ACDC-themed black backpack and pulled out my favorite dark purple noise-cancelling headphones. Then I started scribbling words down about the scene. I saw the sky turn a non-scary black, while the trunks of the trees bled a blindingly pure white. I blinked a few times but kept going.

…and then I saw…

I gasped. A story would be great in the newspaper! I had graduated from high school and wanted to go to a top Journalism School. But my parents had always sluffed off the idea. ignoring my excitement and curtly interrupting me when I said I was going to be an awesome writer for a newspaper column in New York City or Chicago, they proceeded to just let the ideas hang in the air. I learned to stop being so willing to pour my heart and soul into my journalism. That’s why I dropped out of high school.

I put my head down, my forehead on my knees. Covering up, I wrapped my arms around my head and sat there the rest of the train ride. When I heard the woman’s voice announce that the train was stopping at a certain station, I waited for the train to stop, got up and exited.

I dwelled on all the idea-neglecting memories my parents had gifted me. Was I going to make it? I even applied to certain ones, saying I was a straight-A student with extracurricular activities and four jobs under my belt. I had it all—the perfect résumé, the perfect boyfriend (who was supportive of my decision to drop out by helping me stay focused on getting into great schools) and a stellar academic life. I just needed—

“No, this isn’t the right station!”

I whipped back to the train, hoping to catch it, but the train had already departed.

No! I bit my lip, refusing to scream out my frustration. I needed to get back on that train. I was heading for an interview for one of my top jobs I would use to pay my way through college. My boyfriend even had suggested it to me! I balled my fists, but then took heavy breaths. Trying to calm down, I yanked off my headphones and looked over at the brick pillar with a recycling bin and trashcan in front of it. Looking at the trashcan and recycling bin, I wondered if they were going to be turning purple and red or pink and brown or something weird. I shook my head. Was I dreaming?

I headed somewhere where I hoped I could get to the interview in time. Gripping my backpack and headphones simultaneously, I raced up the escalator, pushing past people who retorted with glares and stares of annoyance. “Sorry!” I hollered, hoping I could make it in time. I looked at my watch. It was five past five. The interview was at six o’clock. But the train station was an hour away from the shopping mall store at which I was interviewing. I had no choice but to…

Wren, you are a patient, hardworking person. You can’t panic at the sight of a missed train. You just need to do what’s right. I took a huge breath and walked calmly to a parking lot, where I had left my car. When I got into the driver’s seat after casting away my backpack and headphones into the passenger’s seat, I remained calm. When traffic hit, I told myself I would be okay.

I’m a patient person. I cannot react. I will write all about missed trains and failed interviews and traffic jams when I graduate from college. Today’s a brightly sunny day! Maybe what I saw out the train window cannot distract me. No, I must stay focused. The trees with fire and red sky and whatever else—just a fantasy element of my imagination, right?

I looked outside. The sky was pink now. I then looked while driving at the trees—blue trunks with yellow leaves. Strange. Was this—

No! I jerked my head to the front, forcing myself to stay calm. The time was getting close—I had twenty seconds to walk from my car to the mall and then forty seconds to enter Hot Topic.

Which was on the eighth floor. Many people came and went in and out of this elevator, stopping every so few floors. Finally, after half-hour of elevator stops, I shook the interviewer’s hand. I realized I did not have my interview questions or research notes I had taken about the company or store.

But he had a T-shirt and jeans on. “Ma’am—”

“Wren.” I wanted to melt through the floor and start all over on the train. “Yes, it’s a bird’s name—”

“I’m not here to interview you. I’m here to give you a tour of Hot Topic. That is what we discussed in the emails, right?”

“Uh…” Like an idiot, I stared at him. And, like an idiot, I gritted my teeth, smiled wide and said, “We discussed meeting together—”

“Ma’am,” the guy slid his hands into jean pockets. “I…um, don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re coming up with one reason after another to not work here. I don’t really see why you’re even looking to work here.”

I looked at him like I would if Cons, an ophthalmologist, suddenly just decided to somehow get eye surgery to become completely blind. “I…”

The guy even had a maddeningly irritated facial expression. Plus, a Navy blue floor, sunshine yellow ceiling. It was weird.

I dashed away to the bathroom. Poke dots and squares. Black and white. I asked around, but all the ladies said they didn’t see colors or shapes. I asked some strangers hanging around the mall. They shook their heads. I returned to the guy.

“I’m sorry, but have you seen any colors lately? I mean, have you been seeing the walls become orange, or the ceiling become green?” I didn’t care what he thought. He wasn’t even polite. Just some ugly T-shirt-wearing dude worsened by a greasy set of jeans. I wasn’t even surprised—I assumed maybe a slightly well-dressed man or woman would give me a tour. I started to feel as if I didn’t need a job. I just needed to step into that classroom at that right school and take notes until graduation.

“No!”

Fine. I walked right out, shrugging my shoulders. I sweat for nothing. I hurry for nothing. I dash all the way here for nothing. I headed for Auntie Anne’s. Munching on the big but delicious salty pretzel, I told Cons I was just going to go to school and graduate.  

“Why?” He laughed. “Because the interviewer was some guy?”

“No!”

“Anyway, how are you going to pay your way through graduation?”

“Maybe my parents can pay for it all. They’re the ones who discourage me. So it’s payback time!” I laughed at my own pun. He didn’t, but he insisted he’d pay for everything.

“Yeah—let’s hope they don’t treat you like some pile of dirt, too, okay?”

“You deserve it, Wren.”

I thanked him, and then we hung up. Walking down the mall, I avoided the escalator and descended the stairs. Encountering a jewelry store, I bought some expensive jewelry. Slipping on some peachy orange bracelets and earrings after stripping myself of my jacket and backpack, I looked at myself in the mirror. And sighed, frowning. I pursed my lips. Maybe if I…

I looked at myself a long time. I looked at the colors of peachy orange. I saw blood-red and wickedly dark green. I didn’t like the colors I saw. At all. I looked down, and before I was about to cry, I jumped.

“Hello—can I help you?”

A short pudgy Asian woman grinning from ear to ear was standing next to me. I replied that I had beautiful earrings, and she nodded enthusiastically. I nodded and then purchased them. Heading home, I walked into my apartment after locking the front door. Greeting my silver and black cat, Volcanic Eruption, I said, “Hope I’m not seeing you as puke green and silver!”

She was still silver and black. I cocked my head. “Am I seeing you right?”

Then my cellphone rang.

“Hey, we’re stopping at McDonald’s for a quick bite to eat. Want anything?”

“No, Mom.” I launched into a small tirade about my parents’ attitude when it came to journalism. I didn’t care what they thought—I was not going back to high school. I was eighteen, so my parents’ words on returning somewhere where I’d be teased and mocked for two years weren’t coming. My boyfriend’s help was better than my résumé showing some name of some high school!

“Yeah—okay. Bye.”  

Hanging up, I looked around me, tossing the phone onto the hard marble kitchen countertop. I didn’t see any purple or yellow. I looked back at that pet of mine. “You don’t think I’m weird?”

Volcanic Eruption blinked and meowed, licking her paws. Heaving an irritated grunt, I called my boyfriend.

“Hey—did you get in?”

“No. I told my parents to grow up. They don’t listen. I’ll jump right on the computer, and type my essays away!”

As the months passed, I saw no colors. Nightmares of failing out of college or failing to get into one of my top colleges plagued me. But I forgot those dreams, for they never came true. What did come true was the fact that I got into a top school. Not of my choice, but it did have an excellent journalism program. I graduated with top honors, my boyfriend hollering my name and cheering and clapping furiously for me as I walked that stage. We took a selfie, diploma in hand, jewelry in ears and on wrists.

I told my parents about graduation. Even posted pictures on Facebook and Instagram of Cons and me.

Yeah. My parents retorted. We graduated, too. So?

I steadied myself to avoid breaking my computer in my rage. What parents would just punch you in your face? I’m their daughter—not some freak at a circus show!

Whatever. I wrote in all caps. I don’t even have parents anymore. I’m an orphan.

Mom wears jewelry. So?  

I slammed my laptop shut, threw away my bracelets and earrings and then darted right over to the cabinet doors. Grabbing a cabinet doorknob, I opened the door and then slammed it. Slamming every door and hitting every pillow, I wearied myself out by the end. Huffing, I fell into the soft leather couch I saw as deep, almost violent, purple. I slammed my eyes closed.

No more colors! I just want to live.

I opened my eyes, and, yes, it was still purple. I looked at my cat. She was still silver and black. Volcanic Eruption trotted over to the so-called family room. I rejected it to head upstairs, Volcanic racing me. She won. “Volcanic!” I chuckled. “Where are you going?”

“Come on. Your room should be a great place to vent your feelings.”

I stopped dead. Did…she just talk?

“Volcanic…did you just talk?”

“Yes.”

Running to the bathroom, I splashed my face with water at the sink and then dried my face on a hand towel hanging behind me. “Volcanic, can you tell me what you are?”

“A cat.”

I blinked. Shutting my door after Volcanic Eruption entered, I calmed myself down. The cat joined me on my bed. “Volcanic Eruption, you’re my only friend besides Cons. We’re like family.” I struggled not to curl up and go right to sleep. “My own family—like I’m an orphan.”

“Why don’t you marry him?”

I sputtered. “We’re—I mean, he hasn’t even proposed to me yet!”

Volcanic laughed. I felt weird holding a talking cat, but she was all I got. I tried avoiding negativity. But pessimistic thoughts slithered through my mind.

What if Cons breaks up with you? What if Cons doesn’t like you, or even worse dates someone behind your back? What if Cons suddenly ditches you for someone else? How could you be such a stupid girlfriend?

I stroked Volcanic, telling her I just seemed to float through life, never pleasing my parents or making them smile or watching them send me birthday cards. All of it all just washed down the drain of coldness and forgotten relationships. My parents wore business suits half of my life and held a bottle of alcohol while laughing and joking with their smoking, partying friends every weekend—

“Well, I’m going to remind them of the fact that I won a diploma, something I put on my résumé called a university and degree and soon a future job!” But as I let Volcanic off the bed, I started seeing ugly colors—puke green and muddy brown. Colors I hated. I headed downstairs, but the stairs were puke green, while the banister was muddy brown, too. Like the hallway and my room at all.

Even Volcanic Eruption looked midnight blue.

“Hey, Wren.”

I turned around. “Yeah?” I said, hugging myself.

“Please—don’t waste your life trying to convince them to love you. They’re not going to listen. So—just…”

“Volcanic, I’m sorry,” I laughed, “but you’re just my cat! I’m not going to take advice from an animal. You’re not my parents.” I grabbed my favorite sweater out of my closet, and headed downstairs. After I applied to several jobs in the area, I ended my email to Mom and Dad with an exclamation point and a capital lettered sentence saying SORRY I’M YOUR DAUGHTER.

“Wren, you’re not going to—”

“Can it, Vol! You’re just wasting words.”   

Lunging for the couch after making dinner and setting it on the coffee table before me, I pushed Volcanic Eruption away. The cat didn’t bother me for another three months. Then, when I heard meowing come from the closet door, I opened it. “Vol? I’m sorry, okay? You can talk to me now…”

Coughing and the sight of a paw curled over Volcanic Eruption’s mouth made me dash towards her. “Volcanic!” I scooped her up, horrified. “Please—could we be owner and pet? I need a family!”

“Yeah—” The cat nodded graciously. I bathed her, apologizing profusely. After cleaning the closet, I sighed. Calling Cons, we talked, and he said he had a surprise. I said I had a surprise for him, too.

“Yeah?” He asked. “What is it—a huge box of Chees-Its?” 

“No! A talking cat. And an ability to freaking see colors—”

After explaining this whole bonanza of a world to him, I braced myself. After slamming my front door, he said the whole talking cat thing was just a dream I had last night. And then seeing colors?

“You’ve gone colorblind, man.” He walked into the kitchen.

“No—I…” I stopped. “You know what? I see yucky colors the more negative I am. The more I let others push me down, the more I see what I see. But I don’t see colors when I’m positive.”

“Yeah…” This T-shirt wearing, hands-in-jeans guy nodded, eyes bulging in disbelief. “Yeah, sure!”

I sniffed, hopeless. “You’re not going to ditch me…are you?”

Cons walked up to me and knelt down on one knee. Taking a small black box out of his jacket pocket, he looked up at me. “Will you, Wren Richards, marry me, Cons Reeds?”

I covered my mouth, nodding sincerely. “Yes. Yes, I will!”

He jumped up and, with a wide grin, gave me a hug. I responded in kind, and, after letting go, told him I wasn’t marrying him to escape my parents.

“We’ve known each other since the womb, Wren. I want our marriage to last.”

I nodded.

The color thing morphed into live animals, the fire on trees turning into dragons of fire and inky black water becoming horses of ink and doors changing types of wood and leading Volcanic Eruption, Cons and me into forests, space, the earth's core and other places we could only imagine. Soon, riding these animals and going on these adventures were left in the past, and Cons and I married, Volcanic Eruption being the flower cat.

I struggled to maintain a positive aura around others, especially my parents. They said they had wanted to come to my graduation but work got in the way. I said I can sacrifice a document or Excel spreadsheet for me for once. They never replied.

Cons and I realized we were shapeshifters. Becoming cats, we walked with Volcanic Eruption throughout the city. And returned as people, me at my great job, Cons’ at his and Volcanic Eruption just sleeping the days away.

I guess I’ll join my parents. In the graveyard.