Orange

He woke up feeling light headed in a room he didn´t recognize, he was lying in an orange couch, quite an uncomfortable one too, the room was entirely orange, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, everything was orange but the TV, in the exact center of the room stood a big, flatscreen TV. It was positioned to be in front of the hideous orange couch, in fact, it was like the entire room was built and decorated to fit the flatscreen TV, everything from the hideous orange couch, to the disgustingly orange curtains, passing through the orange colored chairs and desk, and the sickening orange wardrobe. Sick of all that orange, he opened the curtains to let in some light. It was a sunny day, and the feeling of warmth against his face was a welcome one.
"What am I doing here?" he thought, he barely remembered anything from last night, he had gone out to drink a cup of coffee in his favorite bistro, and then everything was blurry. He tried hard to remember, but the only thing he achieved by that was a headache, the vomitive orange color didn't help much either. Frustrated and with a headache he tried to leave the room, which had a nauseating orange door by the way, only to find that the door was locked, he tried knocking on the door, at first they were gentle knocks, but they soon escalated to become furious punches on the wood, accompanied by some shouts. It was to no avail, the door wouldn´t budge and it seemed there was no one around, or at least no one cared he was trapped in the disgustingly orange room.
Desperate, he started walking around the room, trying  his best to remember what had happened, but the headache was too strong, and the orange too brutal; he started to worry, what if he had been kidnapped? or what if he had been drugged and his organs removed? At this thought, he began to frantically feel his body in search of stitches or scars, but he found none. He tried to calm down, the place didn´t look like a kidnappers hideout, and besides, who on his right mind would decorate a place so hideously? Maybe he was on one of those shows which played pranks on people, yes, that must be the case, he thought hopefully, but if he really was in one of those shows there had to be cameras somewhere in the room; with that thought in his mind he began to search the wickedly orange room, he searched in the orange bookcases, the orange desk, inside the orange wardrobe and behind the orange couch, but he found nothing. He examined the ceiling, but other than the foul orange color, there was nothing strange in it.
He began to get nervous, and he started eating his nails, he had an habit of eating his nails when he was nervous, the doctor had told him to stop before he damaged his nails permanently, but he had never been able to stop it, and now, trapped inside a horribly colored orange room, eating his nails was the only thing he could do. He tried to calm down, but it was impossible, the horrible orange color was everywhere, it seeped through his mind and made his head hurt. HE tried closing his eyes, but even with his eyes closed everything was orange, everywhere he looked the orange color assaulted him, every time he tried to think in something else, the orange color overpowered him. What's more, he started to notice that every passing second the orange color became stronger, it was brighter, every passing second it became even more sickening, and just when he thought he couldn´t take it anymore and his head would explode the flatscreen TV in the middle of the room turned on.