Legacy

A Story by eclipticlegacy

One thing I notice is that a lot of people don't have any care.

A rainbow is a long spark of light and colour that drives an emotional orchestral symphony; rays of red, green, blue and violet that light up the sky. It’s a tapestry across the sky woven by the Gods - rainbows are like comets of the day; rare but justifiably beautiful. Rainbows - appearing to end epochs of rain and storm - are one of the most sought out views in the world. They were, anyways.

The rain pounded down mercilessly on the grey, concrete pavement. Many people rushed to bus stop shelters or in the lobbies of hotels; flagging down cabs and checking the time anxiously, most people didn’t notice the girl who sat against the wall outside. Those who did, didn't spare a second glance. She was leaning against the rusting metal part of the wall, a disgusting brown-orange that clashed horrifically with her blue jacket, now soaked. She was silent; content to let the rain fall to her head, each droplet clinging to her face before continuing their descent to the ground. She didn’t seem to notice that the rain wasn’t getting any lighter - if anything, the rain began to fall harder and faster. But still, the girl maintained her tired look and waited patiently for something - anything - to happen. On and on people around her walked; some walking around her crossed legs as they struggled to hold their luggage and umbrellas, others simply brushing past her grey jeans as they made their way to their cars.

The girl became aware of a cold, tight feeling as her clothes clutched to her body, wet and painfully icy as a wind chilled her to the core. She never paid too much attention to her clothes; after all, clothes were clothes. As long as they fit, really. What she did like about her clothes were the colours - blues and greys that fit perfectly with each other. But now, sitting at the wall with the rain falling, she realized that the colour didn’t matter much after all. The rain was dripping away at her jacket and jeans, fading both slowly, bit by bit. And she realized that she didn’t care; let the colours fade. They’re only colours in the end.

The rain slowly stopped, sputtering out the last of its life as a rainbow appeared across the sky, signalling the end of the storm. The people, however, took little notice as they continued to rush to work or close their umbrellas. And so, just as quickly, the rainbow disappeared. Replacing it was a new, darker, thicker set of clouds that immediately began to rain - pounding rain that seemed like it would never stop. However, the people in the streets didn’t seem to mind; cab drivers flicked on lights and walkers pulled out their umbrellas again, and they kept going on their daily business.

The rain didn’t let up - it continued wetting the green fields and turning the walls of buildings to darker shades. And it kept falling and falling, seemingly soaking up the once lush colours of the world. Some parts became darker; others lighter. Skyscrapers turned to dark and matched the black skies as the beautiful, vibrant colours of roses and orchids turned to white before fading with their surroundings. Still yet, the droplets of the rain became little black ink drops falling from a pen in the heavens; painting whatever they touched into black. But everyone pressed on; they all had things to do and places to go, and they didn’t expect those things and places to wait around for them as they thought about the colours of the world. So it vanished; humanity deemed that colour was not necessary to them. There simply wasn’t enough time for it.

The girl began to notice her vision fading. At first she thought it was water clouding her eyes, but she realized that it was much more than that - the colour was disappearing from the world. She got up off the wet ground and looked around. She was right; the world slowly turned to one of sepia; then one of black and white. She reached out to the crowd of moving people and pointed - to the sky, the windows of buildings, their jackets, anything to show them that colour was gone. She asked them to look at everyday objects, told them that there was no colour. They didn’t listen.

One by one, each person she talked to shrugged her off; pushed her away - the amount of care they gave went as far to putting their fingers in their ears to seal off her sound. People began to catch on and soon the entire crowd had their fingers or plugs in their ears. Soon, the only thing to be heard in the colourless world was the soft pitter patter of rain. The girl could see the people talking, mouths moving to each other and lips forming words that could not be heard. They seemed to understand what they were saying, although the girl could not.

Then cars began to lose their automotive hum; birds stopped chirping. Across the world, the blowing of the wind and the sweet laughter of new couples could not be heard. Crackling of fire in the night and a crying baby; loon calls, the trickling of creeks and pounding of waves as they hit the coast all died and faded away to the falling of rain. The girl tried clapping her hands; perhaps her eardrums had been damaged. She tried yelling, but she still couldn’t hear anything. The girl moved back into the crowd, talking while gesturing and smacking her ear with one hand. No one paid any attention.

She closed her eyes and tried to stay calm; she needed to be calm, so she took a deep breath. And breathed in nothing but the smell of rain. She blinked her eyes open. Running to the nearest florist, she tried to breathe in the scent of flowers. Nothing came to her. Slowly, with dawning realization, she turned to go outside again. She breathed in the smell of the rain; heard the soft patter of rain, and saw the black droplets of the rain. The girl understood now what had happened. She knew that at this moment, smells and scents of fresh printing paper, chocolate chip cookies, disgusting and mouldy socks, and freshly made loaves of bread had all disappeared in the world, replaced by the strange, bland smell of rain. She understood this. But... why?

The girl wondered to herself what would be taken away next - perhaps emotion? Then she laughed to herself. Nothing could take away something that wasn’t there in the first place. And emotion... certainly wasn’t here in the first place.