First colour narcissist is red. Red come first, the red of passion and seduction. The pumping of the blood from an engorged heart, the red of warmth, that pulsating warmth that spreads over you, delicious and exciting at the thought of being with us. Red comes the first flush of coy embarrassment as you receive the first barrage of our love-bombing, the missiles raining down on you, compliments and praise exploding all around you, causing you to glow with embarrassment, your usual modest self not used to such high adoration and intense appreciation. Red are those lips which you paint so carefully, seeking to entice me since now you want me so much because of what I have shown you. Red is the passion as I first lead you by the hand towards the bedroom and deliver that accomplished performance that will have you begging for more. Red is the flush that crosses your chest and neck, following the denouement of our coupling. testament to the pleasure that has enveloped you and drawn you in. Red are the flags which fly by the score during this introductory stage but you neither hear nor see them for they just blend in against the background of red that I have created. The rustle of those red flags is lost, the symbol of warning never noticed when everything else is so deliciously and invitingly red.
Second colour narcissist is gold. The colour of champions, the symbol of triumph and the mark of the winner. It is our colour, that shining, lustrous gold which glints and shines so magnificently. It reflects across everything, bathing all that we are and all that we create with a brilliant golden light. The dull becomes interesting, the mundane becomes spectacular and the standard becomes special. Everything that glitters is now indeed gold. This colour is apt for it belongs to us, those who are at the peak, those at the pinnacle, the top and the elevated. We have no use for silver or bronze, those are the colours of defeat, the also-rans and the has-beens. Gold is ours and with that colour all that we touch becomes golden. Like King Midas we bring golden sunlight into your life and create this magnificent dynasty with the establishment of the golden period. This era is one of warmth from the golden sunlight, brilliance from its blazing rays and pleasure, delight and elation. Nothing is bad once the golden period has begun, this searing light banishes the shadows, chases darkness away and covers you from head to toe. Our gold dust is thrown liberally around, over you, your life, your friends, our friends and so much more. Everywhere you look you see the effects of this gold. Everything is better, brighter, bigger, more exciting, more satisfying and it is unlike anything that you have ever experienced before. You have attained the gold standard in being chosen by us and you will do anything to remain at the top of the podium.
Third colour narcissist is black. The once banished darkness appears in an instant, all pervasive and able to consume with frightening ease the golden light that once promised to shine forever. It has become a dim memory as the machinations of our black hearts are played out against you. Black is the colour of our moods as you face another day of silence, anger and blame. Black is the cloud which has settled on you and is thick, dark and extensive. No golden light can shine from the firmament through this cloak of black, it has been blotted out by the darkness. Black is our intent as we plan our schemes, concoct our plots and begin our barrage of dark and malign behaviour against your unwitting self. Black is the colour of our eyes which once danced with golden invitation but now have become like ink wells, the eyes flat and hard. Nothing can be seen within save for that baleful glare that lingers and bores into you, seemingly willing you to an even darker place than the one which you now inhabit. Black is the day and the night, the two fused together as time no longer has any meaning to you. All sense of the passage of the minutes and hours has been eroded into a solid block of dark emotions and experiences. The escape routes have been blackened so they cannot be seen against this backdrop of malicious conduct. Black is the forge where dark and twisted tools are furnished, ready to wound, hurt and injure. Black is the long shadow that we cast over your life when we appear in the doorway. Black is the deep and dark pit into which you have been cast and from which there appears to be no escape or relief.
Fourth colour narcissist is white. The colour of desolation and emptiness. The signature colour that accompanies the heartless discard as you are cast out into nothingness. There is nothing to see for all colour in the world has been leeched away by our treatment of you. All that you knew has been eradicated, leaving a plain, white canvas denoting the sterile place that you have been consigned to. White is the colour of numb. You see no colour in the same way that you hear nothing, for the silence that emanates from us is vast and crushing. You see no colour in the same way that those once delicious meals become tasteless like ash in your mouth. You see no colour in the same way that you no longer feel anything. Joy, happiness and delight have been sucked from you and swallowed up leaving nothing behind. All around you is this white wilderness where you see no horizon, you see no end. Your eyes look for a route a way forward but there is no path or road. It might be there but it is indistinguishable from this white blanket which as covered your world. White is the wash that has been painted over our behaviour, excusing it and removing any blame or accountability from it. It is not coloured with the taint of shame, guilt or remorse but has been left empty and stain-free. We have become whiter than white. White is the emptiness. The huge and terrifying emptiness into which you have been placed.
White is also the colour of the ghosting memories which float about this forgotten vale, the spectres of something that once went before who drift aimlessly around you a reminder of the shell that you have become. White denotes absence. What would you give to escape this numbing whiteness, to feel once again? A speck of colour would be so wonderful, just something to contrast against this constant whiteness, a fleck of colour to provide some kind of change. Perhaps a spot of red is just what you need?