"Do you know the colour of pain?" A voice whispered in my ear. I shook my head, trying to find the voice that had been asking me the same question for what seemed like an eternity. I wanted to answer, wanted to make the pain stop because yes, I knew the colour of pain.

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Yes" I wanted to scream "Pain is blue" I thought about the colour of my pain, the sharp blue of knives.

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is purple" I wanted to tell the ghost voice and I thought of the dull purple of old bruises

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is red" I tried to explain "The red of burned flesh"

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is yellow" I thought "the yellow of a fires flame."

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is pink, the pink of a throat screaming for mercy."

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is a rainbow" I whispered

"Do you know the colour of pain?"

"Pain is white" I realised "The colour of pain is pure and unsullied"

And with that thought, I died.