She was in love with the color red. Like a red flower she would bloom in every row of beauty. Everything she owned needed to be red. The perfect dress, the perfect setting, the perfect pain, everything. It was an obsession of a kind. A meaningless association, gripping her heart, mind and soul. Like, red was the color she owned, like it belonged to her, like she felt complete with it. It was a strange bond.
Often lost in her own, she would think, what if the whole world was just red...all the greens with a tinge of red, sky so blue with a shimmer of red, the browns with a flirty little sprinkle of red, the orange with a monopoly of red, the pinks with a blush of red. It would be so prefect, so beautiful, so complete.
She did not have many friends, no one really cared to befriend her either. Her lonely self, dug deep in the world of her imagination, which was busy, noisy and consuming. She spoke to herself often and that was the only conversations she would have. Estranged from the world, yet close to her true color, she lived an anxious life.
A life that was forsaken with an incomplete relationship. Forsaken with an endless wait. Just, forsaken.
The red lamps street, where she saw him last. Her eyes glued to it forever. She filled them with a picture so detailed that it would scare the world if she`d even care to explain.
It was here, where she shot him. It was this moment where she saw her love, her only love, her truest feelings for the last time, ever. Yes, she killed him.
It was the last time she walked this lane. With red lamps. She was attached to them all. That road where he lay dead. She looked at him and then her hands, drowned in the color of his blood. Her Kohl socked eyes - dry, scattered and lost. There he lay, the only possession of her life. And this time round too, it is she who had lost him, forever.
A handsome man, with deep feelings. His voice to die for, his perfume so intoxicating, he was the man who loved every bit of her. Even her obsessions. Back then, her obsession was just him.
There was a tiny little space in the huge world that belonged to them. Sunk deep in the river of love, cleansed with true feelings. It was unreal.
From that door he gently walked out once and came back a criminal. Possessed with a strange poison called revenge. He would kill anything that came his way. It was never the same again.
In the name of an obsessive faith he killed, in the name of a shallow belief he killed. In his blinded kaya he killed. She lost him back then again. He was hers, but not really. He loved her, but not really. He lived with her, but not really.
She knew it was time. Her every attempt to save him, failed. She called him to the red lamps lane. The lane that was their favorite. She shot him, in his head and then blew few more bullets into his veins. His blood gushed outside of his body. The only color she saw remained.
His memory was what she to live with. For her it was RED.
