My body is changing. I am scared.

I used to be a beautiful color. I used to be the same as everyone around me. I used to fit in.

In the past week, I have changed. It started from the middle. In a sea of wonderful, healthy green, came an unsightly orange blotch. I tried to cover my discoloration the best I could, but I knew there was no use. I was no longer the same. I was disgustingly different.

*****

The orange has spread. Only my tips are green now. The only solace in this change is that my neighbors have begun to change as well. Some are yellow, but most of us are orange.

One of us is green. He sits at the top, proud that he is the same. He looks down on all of us. All I can hope for is his transformation too. All I can hope is for him to lose his beauty as well.

It’s beginning to get cold.

****

I can barely hold on. The days seem to be growing shorter, but each moment seems longer. My strength is fading. My neighbor let go yesterday. She only began to change a week after I did, but she grew orange more quickly than I, her green crowded out by a carotene army. I saw her fall to the ground.

She made no sound when she hit the ground.

I am scared. Will I let go soon?

****

I am going to let go.

I can’t let go, but I am going to.

I detach myself from the strong arms I’ve held onto my entire life. I look around at my neighbors. I swear there were more a week ago. I don’t know where they’ve gone.

One of us is still green. He no longer looks down on us, proud. He looks down, scared. When will he transform? When will he fall to the ground?

I let go.

****

I fall. I fall for so long. I expect to hit the ground at any moment. That moment doesn’t come.

A gust of wind hits me, carries me away from where I watched my neighbor hit the ground. It lays me down gently, not on the green grass, but on a sea of hard, black rock. The rock is cold.

I am alone.

I hear something approach me. It is a loud sound. Maybe it is there to rescue me. I reach up.

I am passed over by a monster. He roars as he barrels along the black rock. I am swept up by his movement. For a second, I am airborne.

Now, I am back on the sea of rock.

****

I was transported again by the wind. I am on the grass under where I once lived. Next to me is the neighbor who let go first. I reach out to him. She reaches back. We cannot touch, but we are connected.

I look up at my home. There is the one who is still green. He is alone.

He knows the change is inevitable, but he doesn’t know when it will come.

We all are waiting. He is waiting. Change will come.

****

I’ve begun to change again. I did not know this change was coming. I do not try to fight this change. I have resigned to my transformation.

My orange is fading. I am now becoming brown. My sides turn in, and I crumple. I can barely see where I once lived.

My neighbor is still there. She no longer reaches out for me. We are no longer connected. I don’t know if she has begun to change again like me. I don’t want to know if she has begun to change like me.

****

I feel something hit the ground next to me. I cannot see what it is. I do not care what it is. My orange is gone.

Wind picks me up again once more, and I land on my side. I see brilliant green. It is the one who was still green. He has not changed. But he let go.

He has not changed but he let go.

Why did he let go?