Hello!

 This is the second story in my series of shorts, making it part two of ____. 

While you're reading this, please listen to the song "Hallucinists" by The Octopus Project and also the song "Catalog" by the same band. Thank you for reading. Please comment and subscribe.  Image is from iohtory.tumblr.com

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Everything around her was angelic and pure. White grass, white trees, white houses, little albino animals- nothing had been tainted. It wasn't that she didn't allow creativity- of course she did! She had made up this word from scratch. All of her friends, all of her neighbors. Everything in the world she built for herself had come from nothing but her mind. She scarcely took things from the real world to put into hers. That would ruin her world. The things she did take, she purified before it was imbedded in her brain.

  Nobody talked. It was quiet, always. She could turn the sound on, of course. This required her to venture through snow white forests, deserts, and mountains. Every month or so, she would dedicate a day to reaching the sound box at the very top of the biggest mountain in her brain. The sound box was placed in the sky, disguised as one of the stars.The stars that looked like they had been quickly sketched on with a black pen.

  Sometimes she'd turn on music, sometimes not. Sometimes she would speak in the microphone with her lovely voice, spilling out her deepest thoughts as she looked up at the white sky, sprinkled with the black stars. Though all the creatures in her land resented her because she wouldn't turn on the noise, they always seemed to be transfixed by her voice. Often confusing it with the music that was hardly played, they'd gather round Town Hall and would dance to her secrets. They set out the tastiest of foods you could ever find on a long table, talked to their partners, and confessed love. 

  One day, she crawled out from under her small fort, made with the fair tree limbs that had been torn off. She flopped on her back, squinting at the stars. She could see something faint, almost like a pen pressing down on the paper. Shocked, she lifted the top half of her body up. She started to see the imprint of words. Little drawings. Hearts. Crayons... Water color... Markers... 

  She watched this in awe for a while until the pen ripped through the sky, making a small hole. Her eyes widened as slowly, color started to drip into her world. It splattered on the trees, on the ground, on her creatures. She ran past the forests, getting several scratches on her legs and arms. Through the desert, she lost her way. She looked around, then looked behind her. She noticed a trail of an array of colors trailing behind her. She looked down at her legs. She was bleeding red, green, blue, yellow, purple- any color you could imagine. She quickly bent her knees and slapped her hand over her cuts. Everything was coming undone. She held back her tears, fearing they would come out colors, as well. 

  She kept going, trying to reach the sound box. Eventually, she saw the mountains. Running towards the mountains, she noticed they were slithering away from her, getting further and further with each step she took. She couldn't take it anymore, and let out her tears. Color went everywhere, and she became so frusturated she cried a sea of rainbow. 

  Still determined to get to the sound box, she kept swimming. Hair green and skin pink, Boa looked back. Everything was splattered in color. 

  Finally, she could climb the top of the mountain. So she did.And she reached the sound box. 

 

 

  And then she didn't know what to do. What was this going to fix? Was she going to tell the person to fix the hole and clean up this mess? 

 ...It was worth a shot.

  She yelled, her voice sturdy, but you could tell she was still crying. 

 "Stop it! Help! Clean this up! You've ruined everything..." 

 Suddenly, a flesh colored finger ripped open the sky a little more, making enough room for an arm to fit through. The arm pushed through the bottom of the newly made sea, and seemed to pull on something. The arm lifted up with what appeared to be a plug in its hand. 

 Boa could only stare in awe.

 Slowly, the color began draining. The sea was gone. There was no more color, just a blank land with appearances of black and red.

The voice from the hand told her if she wanted it this way, she could never use the sound box again. Boa shrugged. She hardly used it anyway.

 

 

 

Months had gone by. Though the color had scared everyone, they missed it dearly. It was beautiful chaos, and it gave them a chance to be reckless. They floated through the tears, splashed each other in joy. Even Boa missed it.

 She went on her usual walk to the sound box one month, but stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a young male deer crying.

 Boa wanted to know what was wrong, but could not speak. Instead, she picked him up and carried him on her back.

 Together they made their way through the forests, the desert, and finally came to the mountain. Boa opened the sound box. The young deer stared, realizing he was the only other one to see this. She  opened the soundbox, then paused. She remembered the deal.

 Pursing her lips, she scribbled into the "snow." 

 What's the matter?

 The deer read this and scribbled back.

 Color. 

  Boa stared at this for a while. It seemed about ten or fifteen minutes later when she finally replied. 

  Although, her reply wasn't by words. 

 She walked over to the sound box, switching it on. Suddenly colors tore through the paper, filling the land. 

 

 

 

 The only thing she replied was, "Thank you."