Lockdown

Chapter 1~ Normalacy

The canvas had never looked so blank. White stretched in front of me like snow and I bit my lip in frustration. Next to me everyone was busily sketching faces onto their canvas’s whilst I sat here, imaginarily bankrupt. I closed my eyes, falling into the blackness, letting my mind wander. A face. I thought. You have to draw a face. Something sparked in a flash of Neurons. A guy, with a strong jaw and stormy blue swirls for eyes. His hair was dark and fell gently to his shoulders. I could see up to his waist and I nearly drooled at the defined six pack I could see carved into his naked chest. What does that say about me? I focused more on the defined lines of the face and by the speeding up of my heart I knew it wasn’t my imagination that had conjured up this image. It was Daman Winters. “But I can’t draw him.” I mumbled to myself, opening my eyes. “His real.” The image flashed in front of my open eye’s again. “Oh wait.” I said, pulling the pencil from behind my ear. “I can.”

***

Looking at the bubbling pot of chemicals turning the absolute wrong colour, I realised how much I hated science. My partner, Millie, wasn’t helping at all but chatting too me, talking crap that I didn’t really care about. Before you judge I just have to say that Millie is a bitch. You know the type, bleached blond, heavy lipstick, and a sour attitude. So don’t blame me for trying to tune her out. “Daman? Daman did you hear what I said?” If she was anyone else I probably would have lied and said something like “of course, I find this conversation very interesting.” But the situation as it was I said “No, you’re boring me.” Millie, her cheap mascaraed eyes widening like she couldn’t believe someone would dare say that to her, she tightened her mouth and tucked a piece of flyaway hair behind her ear. “No need to be rude, spaz.” I looked at her, drumming my fingers on the plastic table. That was very original. “That was very original.” I told her. Her eyes narrowed this time, turning themselves into little green crescent moons. “Don’t play dirty with me, tough boy. You know I’m top dog.” I wasn’t an amateur when it came to dealing with school bitches; in fact I was becoming kind of an expert at it since they kept GETTING IN MY FACE. “Firstly,” I said raising one eyebrow and lowering the other. “Wouldn’t dream of it. And secondly, if you can count that far, so you’re saying you’re a female dog? Got that one in one, sweetie.” Her mouth gaped open for a fraction of a second until she realised how stupid it looked and closed it again, not rectifying anything.  She turned her back to me, crossing her arms over her chest, sulking. Have I told you how much I love science?

***

“Move Hudson! That’s it! GOAL!” There was a cheer from the few people who bothered to watch the football team practice as I kicked the football between the posts and SCORED, BABY, SCORED. There were the tired claps of my teammates as coach finally blew the whistle that signalled the end of practice. I walked over to the bleachers, grabbing my bottle and pouring the cool water over my head. It was a nice morning; the sun was out but not beating down against the pavement and giving me a headache. However the footie workout had left me sweating like a hog and I drenched myself with the cool liquid. That feel’s so nice. I blinked the water out of my eyes and left the bottle on the bleaches. The rest of my team were slowly making their way to the training room, in desperate need for a shower. I contemplated skipping my shower and heading straight to spare. I caught a sniff of my odour and decided I better go have a shower.

***

“Okay every one, times up.” Immeadiantly everyone dropped their brushed and pencils and left their rough sketches to stew in canvas soup.  Miss Keith looked at everyone, checking we all had our pencils down. Once she was satisfied she clapped her long fingered hands together. “Ok, who wants to show us what they drew?” She was greeted by silence and I was surprised I didn’t hear any crickets chirping. “If no one puts their hands up I’m going to have to pick on someone.”  Her voice turned deceptively sing song at the end. Do not be fooled. Still the air remained silent and unbroken by any eager hands. Miss Keith raised her sharp blond eyebrows. “Fine, but remember, you brought this among yourselves.” Wow, positivity works well in classrooms. As soon as Miss Keith’s sharp blue eyes started scanning the art room we all became very interested in the paint splattered floor. Please not be me. I chanted in my head. I think I would die of embarrassment. “Rosalie.” She said, her voices like the gates to hell. “Why don’t you show us what you drew?” Why don’t you go die in a hole? “Sure, uh, ok. It’s not very good though.” Miss Keith just waved her hand, gesturing for me to hurry up. Bitch. I turned the canvas around to face the circle of art students, the people next to me craining their necks to get a better view. There was silence, such unbearable silence. I was seriously regretting drawing a naked chested guy in a school environment. Man, I hate Miss Keith. I heard the girl whisper to her friend. “Is that Daman Winters?” I felt my cheeks flame into massive splotches of red. So this is what dying feels like. “That is very good, Miss Paris.” Miss Keith told me/the class, her pointed chin resting in the dip between her thumb and pointer finger. “It has… life. The shadowing is very good.”  I smiled and as soon as she started picking on someone else I whipped my canvas around to face me. The rough sketch was, big surprise, rough. His arms weren’t nearly as defined as I would have liked them and his eyes were missing the spark of life that made a portrait live. I tuned out of my self-obsessed funk, curling my hands on my thighs. For the first time I had been doing art I couldn’t wait till it was time for lunch.