Color Me (H.S)

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER SONG: Hold Me Tight- Evan Rachel Wood

Carli

I looked at my painting, softly putting the last color on the canvas. My brush lightly went across it, making me smile in satisfaction as my painting turned out exactly how I had imagined it to be. I wiped my dirty paint covered hands on my painting coat and sighed.

Now what?

I grabbed my brushes and paint holder, walking to my sink. I washed everything off and leaned against the counter. The taste of Harry's lips were still present on mine. I had to admit that Harry was a good kisser, but it angered me that he could just kiss me and tell me to leave.

All night last night I laid in bed, not daring to close my eyes, knowing Harry would haunt my dreams. I put my art supplies away and walked to the bathroom. Much to my dismay, I had to stop by the school today to drop my art work off. I also needed to go grocery shopping, which I didn't want to go alone. I hated being alone when I had so much to think about. It seemed that I could drown in my thoughts without anyone knowing. 

I took a shower and slowly walked to my closet. I put on a beige sweater and maroon jeans. I quickly finished getting ready and grabbed everything that I needed, walking out of my apartment. 

"Thank you my dear." Professor Tipton said. He studied my work silently, a smile slowly creeping on his lips. "I must say that your work is exceptional!"

A big smile filled my lips and I blushed. "Thank you. I worked hard on it."

"I can tell that. Well done." He said as he sat down my art on his table carefully. 

"Sir? I have a question. You said in the beginning of this project that you wanted us to show how we feel right now. But, to me, it doesn't come easy. It took me several days to finally put up the courage and actually start painting. How do you do it? It seems like everyone can do it." At this point, I felt discouraged. I was a good artist, sure, but once I saw the beautiful projects of my fellow students, I couldn't help but start questioning my choice of becoming an artist. I sat in front of my canvas for several days and thought of something, anything, to paint. "It took me hours and hours to finally reach my thought of what I wanted to paint."

"Well," Professor Tipton said, " You have to be patient my dear. You need to reach down deep deep inside your soul and pull out your creativeness. I know that you have some, I can see it in your painting. But you know what you are doing? You are not letting go of your feelings. You are not opening your soul and letting your emotions flow. I know that I sound like a crazy old man, but I can tell you I have seen horrible paintings and beautiful ones. Those beautiful paintings are the ones which the artist's lets go of their emotions. If you are sad, use color to explain. Use black, gray, dark blue, dark purple, dark green. Anything dark. And if you are happy, show it!"

I listened to him and nodded. He was right after all, I was hiding my emotions. 

"Beyond anything you need to believe in yourself. You don't always make beautiful art. I have made several ones that have never seen the light of the day. The famous painter Claude Monet made many paintings that were absolutely horrifying. But you know what he did? He stopped, let himself go and look where he is in history. Claude Monet was indeed someone who didn't paint good at first, but he kept going. Do you understand? I hope I settled your worries" He said, our conversation nearly finished.

"Yes, I do. I'm sorry for bugging you. I'll see you in class Monday." I informed him as I walked to the door of his room.

"Don't say sorry, I love talking someones ear off about Art. Before you go, I need to tell you a secret that will make you a better painter." He got up and walked to a closet, opening the white doors. He got out an older journal and walked to me. "This will help you when you get stuck."

I grabbed the book, sliding it into my purse. "Thank you, sir."

"Just remember.. Painting is a good way to let your emotions out. It's better than talking or writing about it. Don't worry if it isn't good, but it somewhere safe. You'll regret it if you let it go. Have a good day Carli. See you Monday." He patted my shoulder with his hand and walked back to his desk. I walked out of his classroom after saying goodbye and walked out to the chilly cold air. I wrapped my jacket around me tightly and let the wind flow through my hair. 

I saw the grocery store in the distance, smiling as I didn't have to walk too far to get food. I spent my time collecting everything I needed, amazed to see how many options this store had. After an hour of shopping, I walked up the stairs of my apartment, my legs and feet aching from the long journey. My arms ached from the weight of my bags, my nose frozen from the cold. I huffed out a breath as I reached my floor, knowing that my room was close. 

"Here. Let me help." A familiar voice said, taking my bags from my frozen hands. I looked up, my eyes meeting Louis'. 

"Thank you." I mumbled, clearly not knowing what else to say. I dug in my bag, my fingers brushing the old leather of the journal that Professor Tipton gave me. I smiled to myself as I got my keys. I unlocked the door and led Louis into my apartment. 

"Where do you want these?" Louis asked, his eyes falling on me. 

"There." I pointed to my kitchen counter, which was bare. I mentally thanked myself for cleaning before I left, knowing that I would've been embarrassed at anything else. I watched Louis as he sat down my groceries and stretched his hands. I began to unpack my groceries, an unsettling feeling slowly growing in the pit of my stomach. 

He isn't who he says he is and I demand you to stop seeing him.

I looked over at Louis, Harry's words replaying in my mind. I watched Louis as he put away my groceries, the feeling getting bigger by the second. He knew exactly were I put my groceries. My hands shook softly as I played with my coat. I turned away, slowly sliding my purse off, setting it down on my table. I took off my jacket and hung it up.

"Thank you, again." I said as we finished with putting things away. 

"You're welcome. I actually came to see you."

My mouth dried and I scowled down at the floor. What was wrong with me?

"I know that you talked to Harry." Louis said. 

"You do?"

"And he's right... For once."