Green

I am blue. Cool, calm, analytical. The abysmal depths of the deep. Lonely, but not necessarily alone. The fish gliding by my feet seem to taunt me as they circle around my toes. They know that I cannot see; they know that I can but feel the motion of them swimming along, passing me by. They know.

Chained to the bottomless ocean floor, all I can do is wait. For what, I am uncertain. I have yearned so long that I can no longer remember what time is. Yet this faith, the faith of the unknown, is all I have left. So I wait on.

When that hand reaches down, my eyes wince at the blinding light. Yellow. I can see now. Or perhaps my eyes have simply be closed all this time.

And as our fingers interlock, the only thing that I am able to make out is

Green.

Parallelism

A British teenager sat at a school desk, absentmindedly twirling a mechanical pencil between her fingers, noting how the light reflected off the neon pink plastic.

“I really hope I passed.” She whispered under her breath to the blonde student sitting next to her.

Her classmate offered a grin of reassurance before turning back to his math assignment.

“Student number twenty-eight, please approach the front desk.”

The girl casually sauntered over to the instructor, the sound of her high-heeled boots drowned out by the trivial chatter of her classmates.

The man behind the counter, adorned in thick, horn rimmed glasses, handed over a manilla envelope.

The girl took a moment to inhale before she tore it open.

“No, this can’t be!” The girl exclaimed, disappointment tinting her tone. “How could I have failed?”

The student turned to the instructor with doleful eyes. “Surely you must’ve made some sort of mistake?”

The instructor gave an apologetic grin. “I am sorry, student number twenty-eight, but it appears that you failed your exam.”

“But you don’t understand,” the girl whined. “I really needed to pass.”

“You may sit down now, student number twenty-eight.”

Stomping her foot in defiance, the girl turned on her heel and stormed back to her seat.

“My parents are going to kill me.”

A Russian teenager sat at a mahogany desk, anxiously twirling a stiletto between her fingers, noting how the light reflected off of the edge of the blade.

“I really hope I passed.” She whispered under her breath to a blonde assassin sitting next to her.

Her classmate offered her a cold glare before returning back to his victim’s autopsy report.

“Hitman number twenty-eight, please approach the front desk.”

The girl stiffly traipsed over to the instructor, the sound of her knife-heeled boots echoed in the silence of her classmates.

The man behind the counter, adorned in opaque, black shades, handed over a manilla envelope.

The girl took a moment to inhale before she tore it open.

“No, this can’t be!” The girl exclaimed, desperation tinting her tone. “How could I have failed?”

The assassin turned to the instructor with hysterical eyes. “Surely you must’ve made some sort of mistake?”

The instructor face show no sympathy. “I am sorry, hitman number twenty-eight, but it appears that you failed your exam.

“You don’t understand!” The girl pleaded. “I really needed to pass.”

“You may sit down now, hitman number twenty-eight.

Letting out an involuntary sob, the girl turned around and staggered back to her seat.

“My parents are going to kill me.”

Stress Reliever

I give a sigh of content as I continue my stroll down the forest path. It was so nice to get away from the busy city and into a quieter atmosphere. I’ve had late hours and early mornings at work. My boss hasn’t exactly helped either; all he seems to do is yell at me for everything I did. I hated him with a burning passion blazing through my heart. But alas, I was in my favorite place. Here, all the stress weighing me down was gone.

The fact that I’m dragging a dead body behind me should be irrelevant.