Write about anything you’d like, but make sure that all seven colors of the rainbow — red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet — make an appearance in the post, either through word or image.
Note: I started with the first image that popped in my head and went with it until I ran out of steam. I have no idea where this came from. I’ve never been in such a situation before.
My vision was red when I woke. I was so enraged. I thought that a quick nap would shake off the anger but instead it slept along with me, patiently waiting to resurface, and now it was ready. Ready for me to take action. I jumped out of bed, grabbed my jacket, and left the house in search of him. I drove my blue buggy right up to his house and banged on the door until he opened it. He refused to meet my eyes knowing that he had done wrong, that he had pushed me too far. I shoved him into the house and entered after, intent on putting a hurting on him that he’d soon not forget. No one messes with me.
As I drew back my fist to deliver a punch, a flash of pink caught my eye and I looked around to see little Sara staring at me. The sun caught the flecks of green in her big hazel eyes as she stared up at us, opened mouthed, probably wondering what I’m doing to her daddy. But my anger refused to relent even for this little girl and I tried to sweeten my voice as I coaxed her to return to the living room and her cartoons, but she continued to stare. Dammit!
Of course he didn’t care that his daughter had interrupted and he took the opportunity to grab my arm and twist it into a lock behind my back, pinning me to the door, his free hand held mine hostage above my head. I growled and twisted to unlock myself but it hurt and his tight grip made me fear breaking my twisted arm so I relented and steamed. Sara, overcoming her shock, began to cry and he shouted at her to return to the living room or else… That got her running.
He turned back to me and sneered, bringing up the night before and all the events that fueled my anger. I began to growl and twist again, heedless of breaking arm, which only made him laugh. “You thought it would be that easy for you to come over here and beat my ass!” he demanded as he tightened his grip on my arm. I threw my head back as hard I could and hit him in the face. As soon as he loosened his grip, I pushed him as hard as I could, turned and punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and I dashed for the door knob to leave but he quickly recovered. He reached for my arm again, I threw a punch and felt my anger cheer at the course of action. This was the fight it wanted.
I caught him on the nose and broke it. Blood dribbled down his yellow work shirt as he wheezed to breathe. “Asshole!” I said. I threw another punch but he blocked it, punch me in the jaw, and grabbed my throat. He slammed me into the door again – that damn violet door – and smacked me as he continued to squeeze. He was so intent on watching me struggle to breathe that he didn’t notice my hands frantically reaching for the orange vase that held the lilies next to the door. My sweaty hands slipped off the vase when I tried to clutch it, sending it reeling on its pedestal, and for a split second I feared for my life as I thought the vase would fall and break. From the crazed look in his green eyes, I knew he would kill me if I didn’t do something. But the vase rolled back to me. I grabbed it and with all my might, smashed it on his head.
It was enough to buy me some time so I kneed him in the crotch, threw another punch, and yanked the door open to run out the house. My anger will have to be satiated with that. I could hear Sara’s cries as I slammed the door behind me. I guess I’m supposed to feel some sympathy but I don’t. Her dad is an ass and she’s young, she’ll get over it. I jumped into my buggy and quickly pulled off while checking my face in the mirror. My jaw clicked, I guess he’d broken something, and the skin there was turning indigo. I turned off the main street and onto the highway, heading for the hospital.