The Eyes Of An Artist

Chapter 9

The next day I went to class and felt fine. I still was worried anyways and felt a little distant from Thomas but at least I wasn't stressed out.
I was supposed to get my period that week on wednesday so I was anxious, I needed to have it!
Days passed very, very slow and at night all of my dreams were about having a baby, me pregnant and my parents shouting at me, Thomas leaving, me losing the baby and Thomas crying during hours. My mind has always been such an optimist. I couldn't have had better dreams.

Finally Wednesday came but I wasn't even feeling stomachaches or pain in my ovaries. Nothing at all! What did this mean? I was starting to stress again and everything around me seemed insignificant. Why couldn't Thomas get pregnant instead of me? Why did I have to deal with all of it?

I had painting class that day and the last thing that I wanted to do was to paint. I needed to talk to somebody other than Thomas but I felt so ashamed that I just couldn't.

I don't know how but I was there, at four in the afternoon waiting for Beatrice to apear at the entrance of the building.
Maybe I needed a distraction and that's why I went to the class, who knows.
I waited anxiously and lost myself in constant thoughts until a voice brought me back to reality.
- Hannah... How are you? -. It was Beatrice. Her blonde hair was combed and she looked a little tired. But that weary expression gave her something that made her look softer, more human.
- Fine, and you? - I said with a low voice.
- Good, let's go - she said.

While the elevator was going up I had this memory, this thought of Tom. His face in my mind, that worried expression, it wouldn't leave my head and it weighed.
We entered the apartment and Lucy looked at me with wide eyes. She smiled, she seemed surprised and I thought that was a little kind.

- Hey! How are you Hannah? - she said getting up from her chair and coming to meet me.
- Hey Lucy! - I said and felt happy to meet someone a little more known than the rest.
- I thought that maybe you wouldn't come - she said tucking a little of hair behind her left ear.
- Yeah... -. I almost said "me too" but knew that saying that wouldn't make me look so happy with painting classes so I said,
- But I wanted to keep on drawing what I started last class so here I am.

She smiled and just after I said that I met the eyes of the girl. This time I saw her face a little better and I thought that she had a very intresting face... It was beautiful but not in a common way. I didn't look at her that much because that would've been wierd but I remember that when I met her eyes there was maybe a soft smile on her lips.

I sat next to Lucy who kept on finishing the details of her painting. Beatrice handed me the paper with my drawing and I kept on painting it. It looked a little childish in my opinion because I still didn't know how to make shadows or make the colours more complex but it was nice. The tree in the field seemed strong and I liked that because I felt represented by it.
I gave the sky more deph by giving it lot's of tones of blue and then I made clouds which looked very strange in my opinion but beautiful. I've always loved clouds and this painting couldn't miss them.

- Who is the tree? - asked a voice. It caught me by surprise but then I looked at her, it was the girl who had asked.
- Oh... You mean, who does it represent? - I asked feeling my face all red. She was standing behind me and I hadn't noticed at all while I was painting.
- Yes... The tree seems to represent loneliness - she answered.
I felt mad at her all of the sudden. Because I felt like it represented me and I didn't feel that way. She hadn't even said her name to me and she was already criticizing my art.
- ...does it? - she asked coming closer to where I was. Why couldn't she mind her own bussiness? I couldn't answer her with my body full of anger.
- I'm not sure - I managed to say and that soft smile drew itself on her lips again. She was weird. She walked away and went back to her chair. I didn't know her name still.
Lucy looked at my painting.
- Oh it doesn't represent loneliness, I see some kind of strength in that tree. Your painting is beautiful - she said. And I felt this instant joy spreading all over my chest.