PRISM

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room.

PREY.

Being Alive, as I know it, is oppressive and regulated, vastly empty, and gray.

The world of tomorrow is one filled with strife and terror, a far cry from the utopian future of our once steadfastly grasped dreams.

In present-day dystopia, the outside world is no longer accessible to anyone.

Within this infernal land of unabashedly broken promises, the outside world is but a distant, whispered memory– the citizens confined to the city walls, subjugated and suppressed by the same rulers we chose to lead us to freedom,

an all-powerful government,

a faculty built on a foundation of fear.

The only window into the real outside world is a crack in the wall of oppression, a thin sliver of hope in a sea of despair. Through this splinter, the people of this– our broken, dystopian world– can catch fevered side-eyed glances of the freedoms they were sure they once knew.

But the window is a fragile one, and the powerful forces within it-

within us-

around us-

surrounding us-

are ever vigilant to protect their zealotry.

Those brave enough to risk Wrath are constantly prowling for a way out, searching in vain desperation for a way to break free and reclaim a freedom they barely remember. I wonder if I will ever have the opportunity, or if I have already lost my mind. He makes me certain it is the latter.

PREDATOR.

The world was filled with despair and dread. No one was safe. I knew this.

I watched from my bedroom window. Brick walls everywhere and thinly veiled cameras, recording and reminding me that the outside world was not mine. I was a prisoner in my own home, despite very considerately housing an Outsider who is intelligent enough not to speak, thankfully.. But I could see the colors wafting airily– almost as if a candle was just extinguished whenever she were to float by. I pretended not to notice. She was a utensil.

There were more windows here before. Besides a single tinted bedroom triangle, every window had been cemented closed and painted black. The only view was the view I had curated.

i.

I am a man inspired by the lack of freedom in this universally perpetuated delusion. I believe in using art to open the eyes of the persecuted and shackled to bring a sense of Joy and liberation. With this in mind, I have set out to create prisms of color that will inspire a reawakening. I envision a world where the colors break through the darkness, shattering boundaries and bringing with them a sense of unity and peace. I am confident that by bringing these prisms of color to the people, I can open their eyes to the beauty of the world and help them break free of their delusions. It is my hope my work will bring light and life to a place of darkness.

ii.

I am a man made of prism and color, shattering the window of conformity and unlocking the mysteries of a hidden universe! I stand proudly at the threshold between two worlds, claiming my newfound power and breaking down barriers to unite them. No longer am I an observer, but I am a creator of a new era of understanding. I have the courage to shape reality and bring forth the beauty of this union. I see now that my prismatic presence was necessary to initiate the harmony of these worlds. My journey has just begun, and I am ready to take on the challenge of merging two worlds as one.

PREY.

I hear him mumbling and bumbling about, speaking another language or altogether gibberish, as the militia begin their nightly routine. It always sounds the same.

I am surprised to hear him continue at such a volume.

I know when the Prism talk reaches that decibel, we are talking imminent war, and my imminent Death.

I’ve learned in broken fragments and vague offerings that he had saved me, I was to be executed before the collapse.

I don’t remember what the world looks like because I was so young; I know Beige, and Gray, and Black. I know only this room. I know that I can see a picture perfect world beneath the lone lofty curtain.

I know the sounds of records looping and skipping hypnotic sounds. I know the taste of Bitter, and I know the taste of Sweet, but I forget it frequently. I cannot absorb facts for too long, the poison in the air has apparently caused brain damage.

PRISM.

i.

I am a man of vision and creativity! Can you understand that? I craft brilliant kaleidoscopic mosaics of color, each one shining and resplendent. The pigmentations, mixing and shimmering in the light, spark a revolution in the minds of those living in the darkness of rejection and repression. Through my prismatic art, I can create a world of understanding and acceptance. I hope to bring forth a new era of hope and of justice, where the aching can see the beauty in the world and take pride in the elegance of their own scarred lives. In this way, I strive to bring a light of new understanding and freedom to the people left!

ii.

Amidst the darkness of night, I, a man made of prism and iridescence, break the window and merge two worlds. A bright beam of light emanates from my being and illuminates the sky, replacing the night with the brilliance of a new day. I feel the power within me as I bring together two worlds that were once separate. As I stand in the middle of the now united realms, I feel an overwhelming sense of awe and wonder. Through my actions, I have managed to create a world filled with possibilities. I am proud of the difference I have made and the bridge I have created between the two worlds. I was chosen.

PREDATOR.

I don't know what to believe. I have heard mention of paranoid psychosis; an abandonment trauma gone awry. Isolated in a self-created and fabricated apocalypse, a wire tripped and he authentically believed he was sacrificing himself to save… everyone. And me.

I did not view the body.

And I did not find solace, or safety, I did not find peace, I did not find answers.

When the curtain of the window peeled back, a curtain peeled from me and exposed me in bright lights where I had lived in darkness and enveloped me in sensory sensations where I had rarely heard noise, only a single voice, a single plot, a single truth: I had been saved. Brainwashed? No. He taught me the reality I knew. It was my reality. It was my truth now, too.

A new nightmare laid residence in my mind. An obsession to accomplish the dreams of my Savior. There hadn't been malice in his deceit.

A window is just a window until it's spinning.