Black, Grey, White and Lime green

Sam draws in shades- Black, Grey and White. With his mental pain, the colour of his life seems to grow darker and darker. But when Lucy's colour comes into his life, it might make his palette brighten.


5. Chapter 5

I walked back from school. It wasn't long, I had learnt to quickly cross roads away from my brothers faggy friends and Matt Twills and his mates, so I was home within 10 minutes. When I arrived, I was surprised, astonished even to find my mum greeting me. "Hiya Sam," she said, kissing me on the cheek. "Hi mum, what are you doing here," she's never home this early. Her job was from 7 till 10, so she got home exhausted and went straight to bed. My brother is always out late and is hardly ever home. He was in with the 'bad crowd' as mum calls it. She tries to get him to listen to her pleads, to tell him he's choosing the wrong path. But he brushes her off. He wouldn't notice if she came home early or not. "I've got fish and chips for dinner," she points at the steaming pile of paper, obviously full of chips and battered cod. We only have fish and chips on my birthday, or a special occasion.

We sat and ate, munching away the meal with pleasure. Part way through her portion, mum put down her paper bag. "You know I haven't been feeling well lately Sam," I didn't. Mum doesn't really let people know about how she feels. She once had a chest infection and didn't tell anyone for months. I didn't really notice until she had to be off work for a few weeks. "Well I had to go to the doctor for a blood test the other day and the results came back," I stared at her waiting for her to finish the sentence. "The doctor had to do a few scans and more tests and spotted," she took a deep breath, as if to pace herself. Why was this taking so long, what was wrong. "They spotted a tumour in my brain. It's part way through a middle stage," the silence was deafening. What did this mean? Was she going to die? Was going into care? "Sam, I'll have to go through some treatment to prevent its growth. They can't be sure…" I stood up. "Can't be sure of what mum? If it'll work? If you'll survive? What will happen to me if you don't? What will happen to you? What's the point even going through with it?" Mum took my hands, "that's why I want to go through with it. It'll prolong whatever time I've got left. They told me they caught it early meaning I have a better chance, a better chance to survive," I pulled away and ran upstairs. Mum called after me but I didn't respond. I collapsed on my bed in tears, tears of pain, helplessness. 'No way out' I thought over and over again, 'no way out'. I lay there, alone, crying.

The hours of crying had subsided and been replaced by a haze of the bloody reality I couldn't seem to grasp hold of. I took out my pad and pencils. I drew. I drew the unfairness. I drew the horrors of my life. The bullying. The isolation. My brother not being there. Matt Twills and his gang's hatred for me. My mums tumour. The helplessness. Being ostracised because of who I am. The darkness and greys the whites. They swirled across the page. They form. They become the picture. They live. The bird seems to soar off the page, away from me, taking all the problems, the tears, away. I reach towards the untouched packet of coloured pencils. I grab the one which brings hope and add it to the drawing. I pick the lime green.

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