2 mins

Yellow was the first colour she'd fell in love with as a child. Swaying in her mother's arms she'd be treated to playful lullabies and the warmth of a caring mother. Yellow was the colour she'd embraced as a young woman walking down the altar, the love of her life beaming at her tears in his eyes. Yellow was the colour of her life.

She couldn't remember when she first fell in love with yellow. Was it her mother's yellow sundresses or was it something as normal as the sunlight? As she grew and matured, so did her obsession with the colour. Her obsession grew more fierce until one day she lost herself to it. Kneeling down she remembered the first encounter with the colour. In the darkness of the night the eyes alone had shone yellow. From the window, she would stare at the eyes every night and the eyes would stare back into hers.

The thrill of nostalgic pleasure mixed with the ecstasy of accomplishment explodes in a series of gleeful laughter from the woman. She stared down at the lifeless body of her husband and her bloodstained hands. At that moment she was free. Her love of yellow was gone and she was left alone with nothing. Nothing but the yellow eyes grinning at her emptiness, perched in the nearby tree. They still stared at her.

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