THE COLOUR YELLOW Draft 1, Introduction

Hello, my name is Andrew Moses. I am writing this book in an attempt to first – make myself feel better after every single time I got knocked down by the “world” that I grew up in, and second – to help you, the reader, or whoever it may be, to develop a better understanding of the world today. The primary function of this book, this autobiography, is to go through my past (and probably, if not definitely the most damaging) experiences of secondary school, more specifically, Ernest Bevin College (the secondary school that I went to). More specifically, this book highlights the feelings I’ve had in Ernest Bevin College as well as all of the people who have been involved in my life, the people who have contributed into making me who I am today – the wise, broody, misunderstood, insane person that I am today.

I am Andrew Moses, a teenager who was sent out into the world at such a young, impressionable age, and surprisingly, has lived long enough to tell this tale. I am a teenager with a lot of hatred in his heart that he really needs to get out. I will be getting rid of that hatred by describing what I have truly thought of them. Do not be offended when I talk about the following people who I feel have messed up my life; it is what I have honestly thought about them at that time. Think of what I have to say in this way, they say that it is the truth that will set you free. This saying means that you will only feel much better about yourself if you tell the truth, after having concealing something in the first place. I pity those oblivious people who have to hide, thinking that they’ll survive when they’re only really endangering their own lives (and those of whoever this lie may concern); it just shows how weak and how limited they are, and even if the result bites you in the butt, then you should have at least understood that it was wrong to have lied.
Sometimes, most of the time, if not always, I’ve had this feeling that no-one ever cares. I hated that feeling. Even as you read my words, wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, you’ll probably still be aware that global warming is going on. You may not be able to see it, but it’s happening, and you’d better believe it. It’s happening in the form of burning fossil fuels, it’s happening in the form of deforestation for pointless building projects of some sort (normally, these are like farms and new motorways, but when you think about them, you may find that they’re usually pointless as their time will come to, but when they were alive, they’d probably have damaged the Earth even more, therefore it’s a pointless, vicious cycle), it’s happening in the form of garbage suffocating helpless animals and it’s happing in the form of sewage polluting lakes, rivers, streams and other sources of water.
Provided you have your food, water and entertainment, would you care enough to stop them? You’re playing “Call of Duty: Black Ops 2” (this is only an example) on your PlayStation 3 in the comfort of your own bedroom but you forgot to turn the tap off in the bathroom. It’s neck and neck. You’re about to beat the final boss but you’re distracted when you hear a cry for help outside - one of many for the past hour - and you lose the game. You look outside your window to investigate and you see that the game has come to life.
Thick, brown clouds rapidly devouring the crystal clear blue sky. Cold, hard, unforgiving concrete is divided by rivers of acid, roaring every time somebody dumps something – anything – in it. Thunder and lightning striking the ground here and there, starting fires - blue and red – with a mighty hunger that can never be satisfied. Bodies of humans and animals explode into pieces if you’re unlucky enough to be struck by the thunder and lightning, catching fire as a result. Piles and piles of body parts, none other than ice cream with caramel to the fire. You see a goat crying in agony as a lumberjack struggles to silence her with a chainsaw, blade slicing rib like cheese, blood spurting out uncontrollably everywhere as her arteries are slashed at.
The goat cries out “You are the only one who can save me! Please help! And if you can’t help me, then please, help my children!” Yet the strange thing is that the goat is alive, and you can hear her. It may be the fact that she believes you will help her. What’s stranger is that the lumberjack is grilling the goat’s flesh, and when grilled to perfection, the lumberjack dresses up that in condiments, to make it look like a burger or hot dog. What’s even stranger is that the lumberjack is then distributing that food to people - normal and celebrity – all sat beside a picnic table, the cloth smothering it has the planet Earth on it. Below, reads”We live to kill and kill to live”. What’s stranger still is that there are three little goats watching it all in horror, covered with their mother’s blood, their mouths open wide, transfixed on the beasts before them feasting on their mother, some like they have no tomorrow, others like they have all the time in the world. They talk amongst themselves about how they’ve been doing, how great this feast is and when they should do it again. But the strangest thing of all, you get a glimpse of that lumberjack. The hair, the nose, the eyes…there’s no mistaking it…it’s you!
Now I ask:”Would you care?”. You’ve been killing a bunch of strangers with guns, and now you’ve seen the real thing. There’s a stranger calling out to you, yet you must have been told by your parents to never interact with them. It’s like this every day: the world gets that much closer to total annihilation due to the supreme majority. I felt that my world came tumbling down, and it hasn’t changed since.

I am now going to tell you the story about my teenage years, right from the very beginning and I’m going to be talking to you as my fifteen/sixteen year-old self, looking back at it all, and considering that I’m rather insane now, I will be literally speaking in the way that I would normally speak, which may not make sense to some people. It’s said that teenage years are said be a human’s most traumatic years. There are some things I won’t be able to remember, others I can in detail. This is because the mind will take interest in certain things, and it’s true. Whatever you know and whatever you will know will be because you actually want to know, no matter what it is, no matter how compulsory it may be, at the end of the day it is you who will want to learn it, and absolutely no-one can or will ever force you to. In my opinion, this is something that the average mind never really thinks about.