Graffiti Girl // Michael Clifford

|| 12 ||

"What's up with the A's? Just like marking your territory?" I tease. She walks over to the center of the room to stand beside me.

"Well the one on the door is the symbol for anarchy. This one is the logo for Anthem Made. It's this clothing line, brand, business, that kind of stuff type of thing. The lead singer of Sleeping With Sirens started it--Kellin Quinn."

"I've noticed you're a big fan of them," I laugh.

She shrugs. "Yeah. He comes from a broken home. That's kind of what caught my attention for them, specifically. I could relate to a lot of his lyrics. Then I just kept getting more and more into them. They are kind of the rejects for their genre group since their music is more melodic, but I like it. Plus, Kellin's voice is seriously one of a kind. My brother hates them--and all my music, really--but is convinced he's a girl. But besides, I like Anthem Made for more than just Kellin. The meaning behind the name is like... well we all have our own anthem that we carry with us. It's more than someone's favorite song. It's kind of what you identify with. And... we are all made up of some form of our own anthem."

"I like it," I softly speak. This girl never ceases to amaze me. It's like everything she does is never what it seems. I was thinking she just liked the A's because of her name or whatever. I should have known by now that it's always something more.

I move over to keep looking around the room. A black dresser stands against the wall right next to her bed. The ground in front of it is littered with various wires, including one of a black desk lamp and a laptop. The wall behind it displays a few posters, as well. Only these aren't of any bands... or people, for that matter. They seem to be large print-outs of different paintings that I don't recognize, but that's not surprising.

"What are these?" I ask.

"Well that one," she says and points to the one I was already looking at. "That's a painting by Claude Monet. It's called Sunrise."

"Is there a reason you like it enough to hang it on your wall?"

"I like anything Monet, really. If you stuck me in a room filled with paintings and didn't give me any information on any of them... I would walk straight to the Monets. Or Van Goghs. Or Renoirs. Any impressionists, really," she sighs. She lost me as soon as she mentioned Monet, but I continue to listen, anyways. It's kind of fun watching her talk about this stuff. She's seems so mesmerized as we stare at the picture I know she has surely spent hours studying, already. "As for Sunrise... Besides being breathtaking, when Monet created it, it was rejected over and over again. Everyone said he needed to go back and finish it. It is mostly shadows and rough outlines of the harbor, but he did that on purpose. Notice only one sailboat and a small row boat with a few men are really prevalent. The focus is really on the sunset; the colors highlighting the sky between the clouds and casting down onto the water below. He knew what he wanted in this piece, and didn't change because others didn't see that. And in the end... I mean it turned out gorgeous and iconic for impressionism."

"It's pretty," I coo. She scoffs but laughs.

"One day, I'll take you to an art museum and show you the difference between impressionism and your butt's permanent impression on the couch cushions," she chuckles.

"Uh... no... that's really okay," I laugh and continue exploring.

I turn around to face the opposite wall. On either sides of the door, there are rows of string lights with pictures hanging from them. I step closer and see that most of them are of Andi and R. There are some of her and Hayden. Some are with people I don't know and some I recognize from school. One seems to be her as a baby. She is standing in a pair of worn-leather boots ten times her size and a diaper. She is in front of a pasture of some sort. Her hair is cut in a bob, framing her chubby cheeks adorably. I look closer and sure enough, her eyes are the same gold brown. The light is shining down on her and added an extra sparkle around the pupil. They are as mesmerizing as always.