his is the last story of Alexander. There are many stories about him, but none are as important as this one.
Alexander was 22 years old, had light brown hair, brown kind eyes, high cheekbones and he was very thin. He was also very tall, and he used to tell me that he loved going shopping with me because I was easy to spot with all the colors I wore. You see, Alexander had a fixation with colors, red and green were his favorites but he didn't wear it himself. He said it would make him 'too bright' whatever that means. I wasn't always sure of him, I always thought something was a bit off, but we had been friends for a good eight years, and true friends stay together no matter if said friend was a bit weird.
Alexander had been unwell, when he was little. His parents told me that once, when he was four, he had looked out of the window and said there was a bad man walking on the street. They looked out and saw one of their neighbours, I don't remember the name. They had told him who he was, and that he was a kind man, quirky but kind, and a christian to boot. Therefore it came as a shock that Alexander yelled 'bad man' whenever they saw the guy. When Alexander and his family moved out of town, Alexander had never been left in care of the man, and two years later he was caught for kiddieporn.
But enough about Alexanders childhood, it's time to tell you why I come here with this story. As I said, Alexander loved colors. He said red suited me very well, that it dampened my colors and made the waves of light feel less overwhelming. I wore red that day.
Alexander and I had been talking about going on a trip, just somewhere, didn't really plan or care where, just somewhere we'd never been. Alexander suggested Spain, I suggested Italy, and we decided on both. We were just friends of course, but Alexander had been acting so strange that day. He kept talking about the waves getting brighter, and that he was scared they were coming to get him and bring him to the blue room. When I asked him what the blue room was, he didn't answer me, not really, he just said 'it's a blue room, idiot' as if that explained anything. I was a bit confused of course, it was only natural to be confused because I was wondering if he was having a psychotic breakthrough. I asked his mom and she said 'no, we had him checked'. However she looked really nervous, and when I asked about the 'blue room' she told me to ask Alexander's father. And so, I did. I was concerned for Alexander of course, nothing wrong with being concerned. Alexanders father told me that the 'blue room' was a bar somewhere.
Lie, of course. Something about the way he said it that made me look it up but it didn't exist. I went back to Alexander and he was ordering tickets for us to leave that very same day. I told him it was too soon and he yelled at me, yelled that "it's going to be too late if we leave tomorrow, don't you udnerstand? The waves are brighter than ever, it's too bright, we need to leave NOW!". So, as the girl I am, I started to cry. He had NEVER yelled at me before and I was scared because he looked so angry and scared. And so, I agreed. I had no school, I had saved up some money, and I was ready to go. If it helped Alexander, then I would go with him. I remember seeing that the planes were half full, but when we tried getting a seat it replied 'plane full'. So, we decided on a plane that left early the next morning. I was about to go home when Alexander looked at me. He looked so desperate.
"We're not going to make it, you know." I was obviously confused. "You should wear red, just a piece of red clothing. It helps stop them from looking too close at your colors." And a bit scared. "We won't see eachother anymore, they've found out that I'm leaving and I'm going to be stuck in the blue room. I hate blue." I asked him why. "Because everything is blue all the time. Even them." I asked him who 'them' were. "I can't tell you, because they'll look, and if they look they'll see you shining, and if you shine they find you. They already found me. I'll miss you." I told him I'd miss him too and would see him in the morning.
I met up early the next morning, at the airport. I waited and I waited, and then I checked in, cursing myself and knowing Alexander had pulled a joke on me. But when I went to check in the person said that I had ordered 'one ticket'. I told her I had ordered two, very clearly it said so on my reciept. She took the reciept, walked away for a while and came back, saying that I had made a mistake and would get some money back. I told her 'fine' and to call for Alexander over the calling system so that I could buy another seat. She called for him and he never came, so I accepted the money, sold the other ticket and left. I went to his house, but no one was there. Then, I looked in through the window. There waas NOTHING there. Not a single piece of furniture. Not a sign of anyone having lived there, when only yesterday it was perfectly fine. I tried calling Alexander, I tried calling the house, I tried everything. I even went to the police who wa skind enough to look at me funny and tell me that a Mister Rothman had lived at the address for the past nine years and did I feel alright? And so, defeated, I went home.
About a year later, after trying to find my Alexander, I found myself forgetting him. Piece by piece. It was as if someone was pulling the memories of him out of my mind. And then, I started wearing red. Not big things, just a red sock, red underwear, a read tshirt. Just red SOMETHING. And it stopped, the pulling on my memories. Just stopped. I keep thinking about him, I never stopped trying to find this blue room of his, somewhere everything is blue. Somewhere he hates.
Therefore I bring this to you, booalert. Have you ever heard of the blue room, and wearing red to stop shining? What could have happened to my friend?