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The Color Red
The night I died the sky was red.
This was quite ironic considering red has always been my favorite color.
Some people spend the last minutes of their lives thinking about their families or loved ones. Now, not to say I didn’t think of these things, I did, but it kept popping into my mind the fact that the sky is red. I don’t think sunset ever lasted as long as it did that evening, as I lay there alone, no one aware of the fact I was dying. I was conscious of this; I knew my time was slipping. I didn’t want to call for anyone; I don’t want them to see me in this state. I don’t want them to see my dying, as I stare at the color red. Red reminds me of laughter, those hot, scorching summer days spent with my friends as a child. The night I got my first kiss on the fourth of July; red, white, and blue fireworks were exploding like a scene from a movie. My wife, as she held a bouquet of red roses, accepting me as hers forever. The red of our little girl’s cheeks the day we welcomed her into the world. Is this a sign? Does this mean that as I fade to black just as the red evening sky does I will move onto a happier place?
Then again, not all memories of red are happy. The red blood that pooled around my best friend the night he was shot. The red of the sand where I witnessed a child die for the first time. I couldn’t understand his language, how could I have known he hadn’t had water for days? The red of the fire ants that terrorized the small village in Africa I once visited. Those were the same ants that killed a new born baby. The red of the flowers that grew along my love’s grave the night she was buried. The red of blazing hell in old horror movies.
What is the red sky saying? Is this a sign, an omen?
Does it mean good things or bad? How is it that I should react?
I thought about this, thought real hard as I tried to decode the secret language of the color.
Slowly it started to fade. Bit by bit the red changed. Still red it remained, just different in tone. It became different in meaning as I waited for the fading. I waited for the black night sky. Imagine my surprise when it began to fade to white. As the red faded into a sheet of snow I could feel myself slipping away as well. Was the red the blood of Jesus, cleaning my sins, welcoming me to heaven? Or was it the red of hell, the devil and his horns? As the white becomes brighter, I cannot keep my eyes open, the blinding white consuming all my senses. The white became so bright my thoughts stopped as they became incoherent. I may forget everything, but if I can remember only one thing, I pray that it may be the color red, the night I slipped away.
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