My Favorite Color Is...

“My favorite color is red. There is nothing else to it. There is just something about it that just makes me so excited. Blue may be “normal,” the typical favorite for a boy like myself, and then there are the unconventional ones like purple or green. I’m not saying they aren’t pretty, not valid, not a better choice than pink, but red is my favorite color and that’s all there is to it.

Now red is a broad topic, with thousands of shades in between, but the red that is my favorite is the red of blood, dark and shiny. There is something about the contrast, the stain it makes on tiled floors, on white carpets and yellow clothes, any surface where it becomes the first thing you notice. Red is power, the color paid for in blood, which I guess then that means blood is actually power. In this essay I will…”

Mr. Kent looks up from my paper, staring at me over his glasses. His eyes dart to my English teacher, Ms. Carlmyer who is hiding in the corner of the room. Mr. Kent returns his gaze to me, letting out a deep sigh as my paper returns to his desk, the red ink practically glowing.

“Now Benjamin we've talked about this. You need to stop with all this..”

“You’re a hypocrite.” I lean forward in the bulky wooden chair. “You ask us to learn and to express ourselves,” I turn my head towards Ms. Carlmyer, “to create something new that means the world to us. You are a hypocrite Mr. Kent,” I say, returning my gaze to my principal’s now gaping mouth.

“N-n-now-now see here Benjamin. There is nothing wrong with being creative, I just don’t think it needs to be quite so…” he waves his hand in the air as though he could snatch the word from out of nowhere.

“Dark,” chirped Ms. Carlmyer. She strode towards me and took place next to Mr. Kent behind his desk.

“Dark? Do you think the world would be better if artists weren’t so dark.” I crossed my arms, my fingers tearing into the skin of my exposed arms as I glared at Ms. Carlmyer.

“What world would we be in without artists who delved in the dark? Edgar Allen Poe, Emily Dickinson, Tim Burton, Shakespeare! You wouldn’t have anything to teach us without them, Ms. Carlmyer, why am I any different?”

“Because I SAID SO!” Mr. Kent pushed himself back into his chair from where he had stood up. His face was red, panting from the outburst. “Look, Benjamin, this kind of... violent imagery needs to stop. You are welcome to do it on your own time but not on school grounds and certainly not for an assignment.” Grabbing a pen he fills out a pink pad before tearing off a sheet and handing it to me.

“Mr. Donnagan will see you after school for detention and know that I will be calling your parents about this. You are dismissed.” Growling I stood and marched out of the room, smirking when the door slammed behind me and I heard Ms. Carlmyer scream. She deserved it. This was my third detention this year because of things I had written for her class assignments. She made it too easy, and it wasn’t my fault she didn’t like what I wrote. Whatever, she had made me late to Chemistry and I already missed lunch to write that stupid essay.

I turned down a hall and slammed open the first door on the left, immediately hunching into myself when I realized everyone was staring at me.

“Mr. Clay, care to join the rest of us?” Mrs. Keagan stood next to the whiteboard, her face passive as she continued to stare at me, waiting for an answer.

“Sorry,” I murmured, gently closing the door before taking my seat at the front of the room. Jared pinched me as I sat down, smirking at me as he tried not to laugh at the embarrassing situation I had caused. I pulled my notebook from my bag, rolling my eyes as Jared pinched me again. Another attempt to pinch me was met with a swift punch in the arm, Jared finally backing off as he rubbed the area I had hit, feigning tears as he glared at me.

“Mr. Clay, if you are done physically assaulting Mr. Kowalski could you please come up to the board and balance out this equation?” I nodded, dropping my pen onto the table and slipping out of my chair to approach the board. Grabbing the black marker from Mrs. Keagan I looked at the chemical equation on the board, adding a few numbers before placing the marker on the board and returning to my seat.

"Well done Mr. Clay. Please remember to see me after class so we can cover what you missed." I gave her a small nod before hunching over my notebook and copying what was written on the board. My red pen bleeding through the page and tearing through as I fought not to scream in frustration from my meeting with Mr. Kent. Jared poked me with his pencil, poking me harder when I failed to give him a response.

"What?" I hissed. Mrs. Keagan was barely four feet away, continuing to write on the board as she explained why balancing out an equation was so important, even if inaccurate to the number of molecules present.

"Why were you late? You're never late," whispered Jared. "And seriously, the mood needs to stop." My glare was met with a steady gaze. I sighed before writing between the margins of my notes. Sliding my explanation over I blankly stared at the board while my leg bounced under the table. Jared wouldn't judge me; he'd been there, but there was a part of me that hated my pitiful need to tell somebody. Jared slid the the notebook back to me, his elegant cursive squeezed under my bulky scribbles. That sucks man. We can deal in detention. I arched my brow at his response. Jared was a pain but he rarely got detention. He must have really pissed someone off.

The gentle tones of the bell released us from class, Jared patting me on the back as he stood and left. I looked to Mrs. Keagan as I packed up my things, her usually stony face relaxing into a soft smile.

"You want to tell me why you were late to class Ben? And why your arms are bleeding?" I snapped my head down, noticing the deep gashes I had dug into my arms, the crescent indentations marred with drops of blood.

"Mr. Kent was giving me another detention," I replied, still staring at the blood on my arms. Mrs. Keagan wandered over to her desk, grabbing a wipe and returning to my seat.

Handing me the wipe she asked "Did you write another inappropriate essay?" I simply stared at my arms, dabbing at the cuts with the wipe as her eyes seemed to bore into me. Nodding she returned to the board and began to erase her handwriting. I knew this was her way of dismissing me, and with my arms now clean, I clenched the now red wipe in my hand, my face heating as I stood from my chair.

"I was going to discuss the material you missed Mr. Clay but seeing as you solved my equation earlier I think you will be okay." Wandering over to me with a box of tissues, Mrs. Keagan offered it to me.

"You will be okay Ben. Don't let Mr. Kent or anyone make you think otherwise." Grabbing a tissue dabbed at my eyes, surprised at the wetness I found there. Tilting my head towards Mrs. Keagan I grabbed my bag and shuffled out the door, tossing the used wipe and tissue into the trash on the way. Continuing my slow shuffle down the hall, I dragged myself to the art room, my last class of the day. Mr. Lahten barely glanced up from his book upon my entry. It was rare that I ever came to his class, usually going straight home and turning in my work the following morning. Skulking to a stool in the back corner, I grabbed multiple bottles of red paint and a small canvas. The next thirty minutes were spent with my hands covered in paint as I transformed the blank canvas into a blood bath. The sweeping rim of the bathtub, the curled feet that stood on a shimmering red tile, the dark crimson water flowing over the lip and onto the floor, adding to the floor's beautiful color.

The toning of the bell ended my crazed painting and Mr. Lahten raised his eyebrow upon seeing my work.

"Nice work Mr. Clay. Full points." He returned my painting to me and I followed the rush of students out into the hall. I veered out of the rat maze and headed towards the front office. Might as well just get this detention over with.

Jared was leaning against the office wall, frowning at the various secretaries before spying me. I joined him at the wall and he bent over to rest his head on my shoulder. Rolling my eyes I felt my lips curl into a smile. Jared was almost four inches taller than me but he insisted on leaning on me any chance he could. Mr. Donnagan exited his office, side eyeing Jared and me before waving us to follow him. Trying to duck out from under Jared's head, he simply wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me along as he followed after Mr. Donnagan. Rolling my eyes, I let him lead me down the hall and around the corner into a random classroom. Mr. Donnagan took a seat in the leather chair behind whoever's teacher's desk it was and watched as Jared, though begrudgingly, separated from my side to sit in a desk next to me. I dropped myself into the chair and let my self drape over the top of the chair and close my eyes. Detention was only forty minutes long so we simply just had to wait it out.

My eyes barely opened as I felt a pencil repeatedly jabbing my shoulder. Jared wasn't even trying to hide his assault on me from Mr. Donnagan who had taken to scrolling through his phone. I felt my lips curl into a small smirk as Jared increased his pencil poking efforts. Rolling my head to stare at him, he finally stopped his prodding and glared at me.

Continuing my smirk, I whispered "What'd you do to get detention J? You're supposed to be the good one."

"I told Ms. Carlmyer to go fuck herself when she sent you to the office for your essay. She shouldn't give you crap for being creative." I dipped my head, a thanks to his chivalry before crossing my arms across my chest.

"What'd they say to you in the office that put you in such a mood earlier?" I sighed, turning my head away in an attempt to hide the flush in my face and tears wetting my eyelashes. Jared knew better than to bug me. I would spill my guts eventually.

Sighing, I gave in. "They basically said that my creativities are not welcome at school. 'They are too dark.'" I growled out that last word. There was nothing wrong with being dark but did they ever stop to think why my work was so demented? So, not okay for school grounds?

"Well that's a load of bull and you know it. Hey," Jared cupped my chin and forced my head to turn to face him. "I like your dark creativities. Their administrators, they wouldn't know good art if it bit them in the butt." I choked out a laugh, wiping away the tears that threatened to stain my face. I nodded, smiling as Jared leaned back into his seat. Bringing my knees up to my chest, pressing them against the edge of the desk, the piercing pain was a pleasant comfort. Relaxing in its familiarity I extended my thighs, digging my legs into the desk further, the pain blossoming once more before growing dull.

"BENJAMIN!" My legs curled into my chest on reflex. Mr. Donnagan was now standing at his desk, his eyes boring into me, his body stiff as he leaned over the desk to continue his unending stare.

"Yes?"

"Feet on the floor. You are practically an adult. ACT LIKE ONE!" He dropped back into the chair as I slowly extended my legs under the desk.

"Yo, Mr. D, why you gotta be so hard on Ben, man? He wasn't doin' nothin'." Jared glanced at me, a silent question in his eyes. I mouthed a "yes" to him before returning my gaze to the woodgrain of the desktop.

"You know Jared. I've had just about enough of you kids thinking that you can just mouth off to wh-"

"I thought you said we were 'practically adults,'" I bit out. My gaze lifted to meet Mr. Donnagan's, his face just a shade away from being purple as he marched his way over to our desks.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? I am fricking DONE with your guys bs," his finger swinging back and forth between Jared and me. "You are juST PRIVELAGED, MANIPULATIVE BASTARDS who are here WASTING MY TIME BECAUSE YOU COULDN'T GIVE A SIMPLE ANSWER TO A STUPID QUESTION!" Each word cut another hole into me, everything inside of me leaking out until there was only a heavy emptiness left in its wake. I could hear Jared, screaming at Mr. Donnagan "HOW DARE YOU! WHAT GIVES YOU OR ANY OF THE ASSHOLES IN THIS PLACE THE RIGHT TO TELL BEN HOW TO ANSWER A QUESTION..." but it was almost muffled, buried under the roaring in my ears. A faded thumping reverberated around my skull and I my body seemed to vibrate. I clenched my hands together, my nails piercing the skin as though it would stop the shaking.

"ben. Ben. BEN! BEN PLEASE STOP!" My head whipped towards the voice, Jared was on the floor below me, scrabbling at my hands, trying to pull them apart. I stared at my fingers, rivers of blood running across them. I gasped, opening my hands and Jared gently held them in his. He was speaking, crying, but I didn't hear any of it. Mr. Donnagan stood behind him, his shadow covering us both, my gaze trailing from his knees to his face was only met with a glare. His eyes narrowed, his lip curling and arms crossing in front of his chest.

"Attention hog." All those holes grew bigger, the weight pulling me down to the floor where I pried my fingers away from Jared. Curling around my bag I reached into a small pocket and pulled out a razor.

"You know Mr. Donnagan," my voice hard and even, "do you know what my favorite color is?" I tipped my head back, smiling when Mr. Donnagan spotted the razor in my hand. Jared reached out, flinching back as I placed the steel against my arm.

"I'm waiting, Mr. Donnagan." Jared's cries faded into the background. "Do you know what my favorite color is?" His stare was unyielding, his arms bulging as they tensed, he was daring me.

"Red." My whisper joined with the gliding of the razor, all the way up my arm, from wrist to elbow. I smiled, the weight in me causing me to fall. Jared screeched, or at least that's what I assume. There was nothing but my stare, my eyes meeting Mr. Donnagan's as I bled out. My body was moving, but not of my own volition. All of a sudden I was no longer staring at Mr. Donnagan, but at Jared. He held my body against his chest with one arm, wrapping his fingers around my wound, his fingers slipping with all the blood. His eyes were puffy, his face shiny with snot and tears, and yet just as beautiful as ever. His gaze locked with mine, his mouth opening, forming words that I could no longer hear. Peeking past his face, I saw Mr. Donnagan had left, how unfair. Jared lowered his head to mine, his body trembling as I lost feeling in all my limbs.

As my vision began to go, Jared's face replaced by a fuzzy black, I whispered one last thing to Jared, the love of my life.

"Tell them, my favorite color is red."