KALEIDOSCOPE

By: Melissa Zeigler

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today is hot pink. All of my friends decided on hot pink. I get to school and they all have lime green skin. They changed their minds at the last minute and forgot to tell me. They wouldn’t let me stand with them because my hot pink skin clashed so badly. I get home and take my parentally mandated shower. By dinner I am back to my unimpressive self. I eat, kiss my parents goodnight and go to sleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today is bright yellow. All of my friends assure me they too will be bright yellow. I get to school and they all have bright yellow skin. I get to stand with them today because we match.I get home and take my mandated shower. By dinner I am back to my unimpressive self. I eat, kiss my parents good night and go to sleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today is turquoise. All of my friends decided on turquoise. I get to school and they all have turquoise skin. We stand together because we match. I realize I don’t even know one of the girl’s names, but she’s turquoise so she stands with us.

I get home and take my mandated shower. By dinner I am back to my unimpressive self. I eat, kiss my parents good night and go to sleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today is hot pink. Since none of my friends were hot pink this week, we agreed to wear hot pink today. I get to school and they all have light purple skin. They changed their minds at the last minute and forgot to tell me, again. They don’t feel comfortable standing with me because of all the looks I’m drawing. No one is ever the same color twice in one week. Ever. I get home and am relieved to take my shower. Why haven’t they told me their change in plans twice this week? By dinner I am back to my unimpressive self. I eat, kiss my parents good night and go to sleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today I’m going to be red. I didn’t ask my friends what color they’d be; I’m angry with them. I get to school and they all have red skin. I‘m angry they match me; I stand with them because we match. I realize I only know one of their names. I get home and take a long shower. By dinner I am back to myself. I eat and listen to my parents chat. They are happy together. I’ve never paid much attention before. I kiss my parents good night and go to sleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today I’m going to be gray. None of my friends like gray. I get to school and all of my friends are gold. They look at me weird when I stand with them. I walk away and stand by myself. This only draws more looks. I get home and take a shower. The paint takes longer to wash off then normal. By dinner I am myself again. I eat and talk with my parents. We are happy together. I kiss my parents good night and go to bed. It takes me sometime to fall asleep.

I wake up and paint on my personality for the day. Today I’m going to be silver. I don’t really care what color my friends will be. I get to school and all of my friends have indigo skin. I don’t even try to stand with them. I realize I don’t want to. I get home and take a shower. The paint takes even longer to wash off then yesterday. By dinner I am myself again. I eat and laugh with my parents. I kiss my parents good night and go to bed. I don’t fall asleep for hours.

I wake up and get ready for school. Today I’m going to be me. I get to school and all of my friends have orange skin. My friends barely recognize me without paint. Everyone stares at me like I’m naked. They talk about me. I run to the bathroom so no one sees me cry. Before showing my face, I paint my skin blue. The blue makes all of the talking and stares stop. I attempt to stand with my friends but they don’t let me because my blue makes their orange look too bright. I get home and take a shower. The paint doesn’t come off. I scrub until my skin feels raw but the blue doesn’t fade. By dinner I’ve given up. I eat, and ignore my parents’ stares. I kiss my parents good night and go to bed. I don’t sleep.

I get up, exhausted and still blue, and get ready for school. I get to school and all of my friends have blue skin. I think it’s some grand gesture until I realize that everyone is blue. Today is homecoming. I stand with my friends today because we match. I get home and take my shower. The paint will not come off. I don’t try to scrub it, what’s the point. By dinner I am just my unimpressive new self. I eat, my parents don’t stare. I kiss my parents good night and go to sleep.

I wake up and get ready for school. I am still blue. I get to school and everyone is still blue. A rumor starts that a batch of permanent paint was mislabeled as temporary. I don’t know if it’s true and I don’t really care. I stand with my friends again because we match. We realize that we don’t really like each other. I get home and do not have to shower so I go to my room. I have a few free hours before dinner. I start to tinker with things I haven’t tinkered with in years, my camera, my saxophone, my kaleidoscope. I slowly begin to paint pieces of my personality back together.