In a world drained of color

Date: 4/11/2019

I walked into Government class, taking a seat at my usual spot. The teacher was late as per usual. The course next door to ours was South and Central American history. It was what I was hoping to take next year. Once the teacher arrived and the late bell rung, the doors between classrooms suddenly sprung open. Final exams were soon but we had just finished all of our textbook readings and quizzes so the two teachers (mine and the one from next door) decided to have a day where we’d get to know the other students. The other students were... quite intimidating. Most of them towered over me. It was strange, I knew I was short but they were only a year or two older than me so the height difference came as a bit of a shock. Nonetheless I enjoyed their company. It came with the thought that for a brief moment, we were to be stress free. As I turned to face the small table in the entrance of the room, I realized I was colorblind. A guy snuck up behind me and covered my eyes. When I opened them, color returned. He marched toward the entrance door and opened it for me, I said thank you and he said something — something I can no longer remember. But I felt content as I left the room.