text: Okay so this is my short story about mental health. It’s my first one and I don’t think it’s bad, so please let me know what you think!! It means a lot to me and I thought I’d share. He was walking by the target store when he felt a breeze of fresh air. He smiled; he felt good as he felt the element on his face and as he listened to one of his favorite songs through the airpod in his ear. He was feeling the happiest he had been in a while, and he felt proud of what he had accomplished for himself. He drove home with his parents, and got ready for bed, considering the target run had been late at night. He took a shower, brushed his teeth, and made sure to put some medication on any pesky pimples that might be apparent on his face. He made his way to his room, and, when he was finally in bed, he prayed and closed his eyes, letting the black soundness of sleep take him away and bring him back some couple of hours later. When he woke up, he was lying on his back. He squinted his eyes and yawned, as one usually does when they wake up, and he stretched his legs. He quickly noticed that something was not necessarily normal in regards to his awakening. Everything was fine, but he could not shake the feeling. When he sat up, still in his bed, he looked around, and he was a bit startled. After looking towards his desk area, he noticed that he could not see the desk properly. He could see it properly, it’s shape and all, but it’s almost as if the bright white desk had begun fading into a greyish color. He was confused, obviously, so he wiped his eyes to no avail: the desk still appeared grey, now even moreso. He got off of his bed, and made his way through the rest of the house. Everything else seemed fine; he could see the colors of every object in the house correctly, just as he had seen them so many other times. He decided not to say anything. To him, it was probably just the lighting that was in his room when he had awakened. He went by his day like the occurrence never occurred. When he got home from school, he made his way to his room to change into more comfortable clothes. When he opened the door, he was even more confused than he had been that same morning. It seemed that the newfound greyness of his desk had spread somehow to the objects that were directly on top of his desk. He was scared to go near it, so he avoided the area. He took his laptop out of his backpack and he did his homework on the kitchen table. Still, he decided not to say anything because it seemed insignificant. He finished his homework very late, and after doing his usual routine, it was time for him to go back into his room. Again, he opened the door, and again, more of his room had fallen victim to this greyness. Now, the closet door closest to his desk had taken on the color. He rubbed his eyes again, plopped into bed, and went to sleep. He forgot to pray this night, not something necessarily out of the ordinary for him since sometimes he went to bed really tired. 7:30 am. He awoke, and looked straight up at his ceiling. He was scared to turn his sight elsewhere in the room. In the same eye-view, he noticed a grey border, apparently bordering the rest of his white ceiling. Shit. He thought. Lowering his chin to see what was going on, he noticed what he thought was happening. The color had spread, now encompassing the whole front wall and the first quarter of the ceiling. He decided he would tell his mom about this later that day, possibly after school. On the drive to school, something weird happened. As he went to open the door to get out of the car, it was grey. What? He grabbed it, pulled it, and he walked out of the car. He was scared now. Why is this happening to me? It’s okay, don’t think too much of it. No, my vision is turning grey, of course I should think much of it. Is this even color blindness? There’s no way. It’s objects that I’m seeing grey, a slow progression. He paid attention in school and he knew this was not an ordinary case of colorblindness. It’ll go away soon. He sat down and went to grab his pen out of his backpack. He put his backpack on his lap. What the hell. My backpack too now? Damn it. He tried to push the situation out of his head and tried to focus on the tasks at hand. But in reality, how could he do that, when it was such a peculiar, sudden, and strange thing? As he went along his day, he noticed more and more of his world turning grey. The situation was weighing on him so much, and by the time he got in his mom’s car, half of his world was grey already, and he was too tired and down to say anything. He felt scared. He thought maybe it was permanent, that there’d be no treatments. He thought they’d think he was lying, among other things and prejudices the human mind can produce. He said nothing. He got home, did his homework, and got ready for bed. He was already in bed when he realized he hadn’t even checked how much of his room was grey at that point. He sat up. All of it. The only thing left was the upper half of his bed that he lay on. Great. He stared at his ceiling, producing a tear. Two nights ago, he was happy at target with his parents, and feeling proud of himself. In two days, he had been given a completely different world. He lamented that loss. He sobbed silently, wishing he could jump into a time machine, and go back two days, and not remember the progression of his last 38 hours. He could not do that. He cried, and cried, and cried, and he fell asleep. Strangely enough, the tears still fell from his eyes as he slept. The grey made its way up his bed. It eventually got to the mattress, swallowing it up. It took the blankets he was using to cover himself with. Then it took him. The greyness took him. His color changed, light brown to grey. As he changed colors, the tears stopped flowing from his eyes, and he took a long, last deep breath. The greyness took him.