White Is Easily Stained

I pulled my knees closer to my chest, thightening my arms around my them. I sat on my bed, staring at the mirror in silence. "What color are you wings?" was what was written on the mirror with a black marker. I looked beneath the words and saw my reflection, revealing the true color of my wings: white.1

The color white used to represent innocence, happiness, truth, softness, and purity to me. My wings used to be the color white, and I guess they still are somewhere underneath all the rubbish. Now, however, I believe the color white represents only weakness, despair, and vulnerability. Those things are what my wings are now: weak, vulnerable, and in the state of despair.2

When I was a child, an ignorant and foolish child, I was happy and innocent. I didn't know the flaws of the world, the lies of society, and the hatred of people. I was just a happy kid living in a world sheltered by my parents' lies. 3

My life took a turn for the worse, and so did my wings. It remained white and pure until my depression began to play a role in my life. It slowly became tainted with sorrow, grief, anger, depression, loneliness, sadness, and whatever else you could think of. I couldn't protect my wings no matter how hard I tried. Like a white canvas, all the colors attached themselves onto my white wings, tearing them down slowly and painfully. My wings were no longer white or innocent. They began to become a light splatter of black, red, and purple, all of which began to darken as years passed by. 4

The colors grew stronger as everyone turned away from me and abandoned me in darkness filled with lies and hatred. 5

The flaws of the society, the lies of the world, the hatred of people, the assumed judgmental thinking - they all choked me into insecurity and fear. The gray turned to black. 6

My mother's lies and extremity in her beliefs began to show. She held on tightly, holding me on a leash of thorns. She revealed her provincial mind and thoughts, her harsh views of those who she didn't agree with, and her stupidity in judgment. Her refusal to help me hurt me the most. The light red turned to crimson.7

Friendships went down the drain as everyone slowly faded away from me. They walked away and never came back, leaving me to desperately look for someone I could hold onto in order to breathe. My sweethearts all pushed away by my fear of hurting them. I no longer had anyone to hold onto or love and vice versa: no one to hold me or love. My heart became bruised and swollen with sorrow. The lavender turned to deep purple. 8

I guess I can't say my wings are completely white now, but I can say that they used to be white and still are underneath the now crimson, black, and deep purple. They will remain white underneath until the day I die, with the permanent stains of the world. 9