You Are My Only Sunshine

Chapter 2: The Shining Ring

Soo i just wanted to say hello :) Great to see your still reading. Maybe drop me a comment or vote to let me know you like it? :))

I really hope Quinn's feelings are accurate, let me know what you think.

On to the story now...

*****

Chapter 2

The Shining Ring

I stood in front of the intimidating door with a nervous sinking in my heart.

                It was 5:15, and I didn’t have much time before my dad came home… say a little less than an hour. Not to mention my friend had just called me, inviting me to the football game along with the rest of the group. That meant that after I was done with this I would only have about five minutes to get ready.

                I sucked in a deep breath.

                Comon, Quinn. You can do this… man up!

                I twisted the knob on my dad’s bedroom door and took a peak in. Everything looked the same as always, spotlessly cleaned. The bed was made, not one article of clothing lay across the floor. The only thing really noticeable was the dust that had accumulated atop the dresser.

                I hurried over to the closet with my canvas in hand and stopped when I saw my reflection. There I stood, wide green eyes and my wavy light brown hair pulled back in a low messy bun. Biting my lip, I slid the mirror door to the side and switched the light on in the closet. I crept inside and slid the door shut behind me- just in case my dad came home early. I didn’t want him to catch me in the act and ask questions that we both didn’t want to face.

                I took in a deep breath and turned to that side of the closet- my mom’s old side. There, more dust had accumulated than I had ever seen. Her clothes still hung on the racks.

                Even though it had been three years since.

                My dad nor I ever decided to clean this out; we couldn’t, not when she constantly talked of how much she loved having such a big closet.

                Looking at her side brought a smile to my face. She had so many shoes that they didn’t fit in her shoe rack. They’d been thrown carelessly around her side and pushed below the rack. There were all types of shoes; her heels, clogs, slippers, and even those ugly pair of bright green crocks I’d made her swear to never wear again, even though she claimed them to be comfy. Her jewelry box sat on top of her dresser, still open and collecting dust. The top drawer to her dresser was open, revealing mismatched pairs of socks and underwear hanging out of it. I remember when she would constantly complain about the socks in this house, she could never find a correct match so she always wandered the house with two separate colors on her feet.

                Besides the dust, her side looked a lot more lived in than my dad’s was now, even though that was a silly thought, it was true. His side was neat and orderly, not a thing out of place.

                I plopped down in front of my mom’s side with my canvas and pencil. I took one more glance before I started to sketch it. It took me about forty five minutes exactly until I was done. I looked at the replica now drawn across my canvas with pride before standing up again, stretching my joints.

                I was about to leave when I remembered something from my drawing that had caught my eye. I turned around and walked back to my mom’s open jewelry box. There, sitting in the middle of the whole thing, was my mother’s favorite ring. It was as if it was the only thing colorful in the whole room. It was shining bright, calling for me.