The Colors in the Dark

Me

Have you ever experienced total darkness? Where the world just doesn't exist. I bet you are imagining pitch black. That is what total darkness means, right? Having lived in darkness most of my life, I can tell you that is just not true. Close your eyes. Focus on the darkness. Do you see it? Do you see the colors? The spots of blue and yellow and red and green that dance and flash, a new variation each second. Do you see them? The swarming mass of dots, the flowing pictures they create. Do you see the rabbit with two heads or the flaming arms of the sun? This darkness is all I have ever known. The darkness and my hole.

My hole is cold and slick. A round bump every hand length or so. The hole is never ending. When I was smaller, I tried to climb it. My hands and feet were pressed to the sides, shuffling upwards every few seconds. Living in darkness, I spend my time counting, it is what I do best. So as I climbed I counted. 1..2..3..4..5..6... I got to four thousand before I slipped; before I fell back to my home. The snap of my legs echoed in my ears for days. My screaming tore at my throat, scratching it raw. I can't walk anymore. The pain numbed a while back, I don't feel my legs anymore. Not really that big of a deal given how small my home is. I have found that pulling my body across the floor using my arms works best. Now my arms are strong. But I’m still stuck in my hole. My hole provides me with food, water, and other necessities. And one particular day, it provided me with something strange, something familiar.

I didn't learn until later that that something was called light. The light woke me from my nap. It had turned the dancing colors into a slab of red. When I opened my eyes, I saw. I could actually see things! My eyes burned as they strained to take in every detail of my home. The walls were smooth and clear, holding back brownish walls. My pile of food was actually spread across the floor. My hole was silver and squarish. I looked down at my broken legs. The skin was tight around the bone, the muscle degraded away. The skin was black and green, rotting away, and my shins were bent like my knees. My stomach couldn't take it. My dinner came up and out, the liquid burning my throat. It was then that the light spoke to me.

“Hello! Is anyone down there?” The voice was deep, garbled, and really really loud.

“There is no need to shout,” I replied. “Why are you here?”

“We are here to help you. My name is Darryl. I am going to come down and bring you back up. Is that okay?”

“I guess so,” I sighed. I jumped when my hole began to rattle. It was five thousand counts before it stopped and out of the light came a man. He was tall with long brown hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a black uniform with something orange wrapped around his waist. He smiled at me, showing off his light colored teeth.

“Hi,” said the man. “I am Darryl. I am here to help you.” Darryl crouched down and offered his hand to me. There was no reason for me not to trust Darryl so I pulled my body over to him, balancing my left arm in order to take his hand with my right. Darryl smiled again, but it was different this time, strained. Darryl untied the orange thing and began to tie it around me. I stiffened at his touch. Giving it a couple strong tugs he shuffled over to my hole, gently coaxing me along with him.

“Crawl over to me and tug twice on the rope.” Darryl held the orange ‘rope’ and gave it to me.

“When you are ready my team will pull you up.” I placed the rope in my mouth and dragged myself across my hole. Shoving food away but slipping and falling on one of the wayward cans. Darryl, figuring out my predicament, placed his hands under my arms and lifted me up and over the food to a clear patch with a grunt. Being so close to the wall sent me back to when I was small, back to the memory of breaking my legs. I turned to look at my home as I pulled twice on the rope. A jolt forced my eyes away as I began to ascend. My world became gray, the light surrounding me just like the darkness once did.

Darryl

Waiting rooms suck. You sit in a beige room on uncomfortable chairs for hours while doctors and nurses bustle past the windows every five seconds but don't say anything. You sit in one spot, stress and fear radiating from your skin like static as you wait and wait and wait for news. It was two in the morning when the doctor finally came to talk.

“Her legs were so badly damaged that they had to be amputated. And upon your request, I did do some tests and despite the condition you found her in; I have come to the conclusion that she is quite healthy. No sign of disease, starvation, dehydration or sexual assault.”

“What happened to her legs? I have seen a lot of things but never something like that. Did someone do that to her so she couldn't escape?”

“It appears they were shattered when she fell from a great height. Based on the development of the shattered bones and the legs' small size she must have been around four years old when they broke. I'm quite surprised the rotting flesh did not interfere with the rest of her body. The breakage caused a blockage of all the blood flow to and from her legs, and overtime her body adapted, sending the blood to other systems. You are welcome to go talk to her. The sedatives should be wearing off by now.”

“Thank you doctor,” I replied. I followed the doctor down the hall to a glass door, a fellow cop stood at attention in front of it. With a quick nod to relieve them of their duty; I entered the room. The girl was lying on a bed, wires attached to her chest and arms. I grabbed a nearby chair, dragging across the room to the bedside, the sound woke the girl.

“Hi there,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay I guess. Something doesn't feel right…” The girl ran her hands down the top of the blanket, stopping when she reached her now gone legs. I was shocked to see that she did not seem surprised but sad, almost wistful.

“Your legs were dead. They had to be removed for your own safety. That is also why me and a fellow officer will always be nearby, for your safety. I know that you have been through a lot but is it alright if I ask you some questions?”

“Sure but there isn't that much to know, Officer Darryl.” The girl smiled at me, folding her hands in her lap.

“Alright then.” I grabbed my notebook and pen. “Let's start with something basic. What is your name?” The blank stare was all the answer I needed.

“I have never had a name. I always called myself ‘Me’.” She seemed to shrink into herself.

“Well then how about for the time being we call you Mia. Now Mia, do you know how long you were in that hole?”

“As long as I can remember. It was always just me and my hole. And the darkness. But I think I like the light better. I have never been able to really see before. I almost forgot what pure colors looked like. The swarm of colors in the dark are not as vibrant and solid as those in the light.” She remembered colors. So she must have been taken around the age of three or four. I could use that to find her in the system.

“Great Mia. Now, do you remember ever seeing someone, anyone while you were in the hole? A man, a woman, another child maybe?”

“I had never seen anyone in my hole until you. I know that someone must have been caring for me because they brought me food and water every once in a while.” Mia began to pant, her excitement draining her energy.

“Alright Mia, last question and then I will let you rest. Who was in the other hole?” Mia’s face clouded with confusion. Her hands began to twitch. She looked at me, her face now showing fear, her breathing to fast to be healthy.

“Mia. Who was in the other hole?”

“My brother. *gasp* Tommy.”

Me

How could I forget about my brother? Memory is a funny thing in my opinion. I can remember things like colors and counting and Tommy's name but I can't remember how I got in that hole, what my name is or how I knew that Tommy was my brother and was in another hole. I didn't even remember what he looked like until I said his name. Shaggy, dirty-blonde hair. His eyes a dull hazel and his small nose covered in freckles. When they brought me to this new place, a “hospital” as the Doctor called it; they put me in a clear box with a hole in the floor and a tube protruding from the ceiling from which water flowed. After my “shower,” I was put in front of something called a mirror. The nurse told me that the girl I was seeing was me, a reflection. It's comforting to know Tommy looks just like me. When I saw my reflection, I saw his face in mine. Before Officer Darryl left, I grabbed his arm to stop him, my nails clawing into his skin.

“What did you mean by ‘was’ in the hole? Is Tommy not there anymore? Is he somewhere here? In the hospital?” Officer Darryl’s face softened, putting his hands over mine.

“We found your brother’s hole first. A local contractor had noticed the shaft and decided to investigate since it would need to be removed for his project. But when he opened the shaft, a horrible smell wafted out of it, along with a cloud of flies. Animal control was called and less than an hour later, we were called. Animal control had found a body in the hole...a human body.” I felt my throat close and my eyes burn. This could not be happening.

“The coroner stated that the cause of death was asphyxiation, the walls holding the dirt back had collapsed. They believe it happened about two years ago based on decomp. I’m sorry Mia. I really am.” Tears flowed down my cheeks, I had lost my brother and not even known it. He had been right there, the whole time.

“But you have helped me. I now have a name to search which means I can find your family and through them, hopefully the person who took you and Tommy. I’ll leave you alone to rest.” He paused, frowning at my tears. "and grieve." When Darryl closed the door behind him a scream ripped out from deep inside me. My face burned with my tears and my body curled in on itself. I couldn't breathe and the machines beeped around me. Doctors came, and that nice nurse who gave me a shower curled up in the bed with me. She stayed with me like that for hours, until I eventually calmed myself into a silent stare.

The next thing I knew it was morning and I was being shaken awake by the nurse. It was time for breakfast. She brought me a tray with cups of different colored goo and piles of mini-trees. As I took a bite from each thing, the nurse told me their names. First there was lime jello, then chocolate pudding. The miniature trees were called broccoli, I didn't like those very much. I had only ever had food from a can. Red chunks and orange slices in syrup. But this food was so much better.

It was 12:30 according to the box on a table when Darryl entered my room with two people in tow. He held up his hand to the people, stopping them in the doorway before he came and stood next to me.

“Good afternoon Mia. I know yesterday was tough but I'm hoping these people can help make it better. I stayed up all night to track them down. Mia, these are your parents, Eliza and Andrew Grange.” I stared at Darryl and then at Eliza and Andrew. How could these people with their dark skin and black hair be my parents?

“They're not my parents,” I said. “I look nothing like them. They look nothing like Tommy!” The woman, Eliza, let out a small cry before taking a step into my room.

“We adopted you and your brother Tommy. You are not related to us, not technically, but we are your family. We got you when you were just a couple months old and loved you and raised you until…” Darryl interrupted her.

“Mia. We caught the man who kidnapped you and Tommy. It was Joseph Grange. Your adoptive family's son.” HE showed me a picture of a large man, his hair cut close to his head and his arms covered in tattoos. Two skulls nestled in a galaxy on his shoulder and chest. My mind began to spin. I remembered. Joseph had been in charge of driving us to school but that day he didn't. He took us to the field, lowered Tommy into a hole before lowering me into mine. He said we were going to play hide-and-seek. See how long it took mom and dad to find us. But he didn't join us in our holes. We were alone. The game lasted years instead of hours.

“I'm sorry,” I cried. Tears streamed down my face as Eliza and Andrew ran to me and gave me a big hug. “If you had never adopted us none of this would have happened. We should have known it wasn't a game.” They released their hold on me, concern tightening their faces.

“No no no. We would have adopted you no matter what." Eliza grasped my hand.

"It isn't your fault." Andrew, my father, placed his hand on my shoulder.

"You were just a little girl. You didn't know better." They crawled onto the bed with me.

"None of this is anyone's fault except Joseph's. Meena, everything is going to be okay.” Now I wasn't the only one crying.

“Meena?” I stared at the Grange’s shocked faces. Darryl tense near the door. I'm guessing they weren't supposed to say that. “That's my name isn't it? And you would always call me Mee Mee. That's why I called myself Me.”

Eliza hugged me with a smile while Andrew cried even harder. I had remembered my name all along and had never known it.

My name is Meena Grange and I survived a decade in darkness.