He stood in a field of flowers.

Red, blue, green, yellow, lilac, pink, indigo, cyan, magenta, gold, crimson, white, orange.

Flashes of colors, more than the boy could ever imagine.

The sea, the grass, the sky, the clouds, the air, the sun.

A feeling.

So pure and relaxing.

His hair flowed in the wind like orange water.

His eyes widen.

He laughed.

He was happy.

He loved it with all his heart.

He loved him with all his heart.

He ran towards him, nearly tripping over his own feet.

He was so bright.

Reaching out, yearning to touch him.

But he fell.

It was dark.

He screamed.

He cried.

Where was his orange light?

It was a nightmare.

Sometimes, facing the past is difficult. It feels like a dream.

Distant realities, clashing against each other.

Half-healed wounds, you don't want to break open.

Hatred, disgust, despair, anger, disappointment, fear, loneliness, sadness, darkness.