Shattered Illusions

Chapter 6

~Wren~

I slowly wake up, already missing my dream. There is just something about spending time with Nyx that makes me feel…I don’t know how to put it into words. He makes me feel happy and seen and special and tired. I am always so tired these days. I just want to sleep and spend more time getting to know him.

I roll out of bed. What am I thinking? He is a figment of my imagination. But why am I so fixated on some guy when I have Austin? I love Austin. Is it a weird way of dealing with the fact I am going to miss him when he leaves for school? Is my brain trying to tell me to move on? I don’t want to move on. We are going to stay together. It will just be a long distance. 

I put on a pair of leggings and a shirt, it’s actually one of Austin’s and I love how comfy and baggy it is on me. I look at the hoodie I took from him too but sigh because I know it’s too hot for it today. I love cuddling up in it. I make a note to “barrow” another one before he moves away. This one is starting to lose his smell and I’ll need it when he’s gone. 

I walk into the kitchen and pour a cup of coffee while I search for food. As I’m waiting for my toast to pop up my mood drops. I am confused about these feelings I have for Nyx and Austin. I feel guilty for even thinking about another guy when Austin is so perfect. But should I feel this gut wrenching guilt when the other guy isn’t even real? Then there is school. I haven’t made a decision yet on where I’m going to live, stay home or live in the dorms. 

My toast pops bringing me out of my thoughts. I sit down in front of the TV and eat. I spend the entire time searching for something to watch. When my food is gone and I still haven’t found anything I give up. I shut off the TV. I look around for something to do. The sun is shining through the living room windows and my body craves to be out in it. I know what I will do. 

I go to my room and grab my art supplies. I carry it all outside before going into the garage and getting my large easel and a large canvas. I set it all up in the yard. Turning it just right so the sun is shining on it but my shadow isn’t in the way. Thankfully the sun is high enough it’s not a huge issue. It’s the perfect lighting. I put on my smock and begin by putting some white and black on my palette. 

I just stare at the canvas, not sure what I want to paint. There is already paint on this one so I need to cover it. My mood makes me want to paint the canvas black. But I know how hard it is to paint on top of black, so I start to mix the black with the white and find a gray I am satisfied with. Taking a thick, wide brush I cover the entire canvas. Once it is “blank” I put everything down. I grab my ear buds and put on some soothing music. I close my eyes and take a couple deep breaths. What do I want to paint? Everything I think of I don’t want to do. 

I look at the canvas. I pick up my palette and a brush. I run the brush through the black. Not knowing what I am going to create, just feeling it, I bring my brush to the edge of the canvas and begin painting. I tried not to think about it at all. Listening to my music I just let my feeling, my emotions to guide my hands. I add reds and orange, yellow and brown paints on my palette. 

By the time I was finished I felt tighter in a good way but also in an empty way. I put everything down and turned off the music. I sat down in the grass and just stared at the finished painting. At this point the sun had lowered and it was hiting the painting at an angle that almost made the fire glow. I studied my painting. Parts of the edges were painted black that turns a bright orange that faded into the grey background. Making it look like the edge of the canvas was burning. Then in the middle it was painted to look like a giant hole had been burnt into it. Through the hole was a raging bonfire. 

I have never painted fire before and I was impressed and proud of myself with how well it came out. It was so realistic. I could almost feel the heat you would expect from a fire burning that stronge. Then there was a feeling that came with it. A feeling of sadness, loneliness, but hope and happiness too. I started cleaning up and bringing everything inside while I let it sit and dry a little longer. When I did bring it in, not sure why, I decided to cover it and put it away. I didn’t feel like sharing it which is strange, because I always love showing my parents a finished painting. And this one had to be one of my best paintings ever. 

Shortly after putting everything back my mom gets home. After she puts down her things she greets me.

“Hi Sweetheart.”

“Hi, Mom.”

She gives me a hug. 

“What did you do today? Please tell me you didn’t spend this beautiful day watching TV or even worse sleeping.” She teases me.

“How did you guess?” I don’t know why I lied. “I did spend part of the day outides so it wasn’t a total waste.”

“Oh well that’s good.” She rolls her eyes before walking to her room to change.

I lied because I’m not ready to show anyone the paint. If I told her I painted today she would have asked to see it. And I’m just not ready to share this one with anyone else, yet. It feels special and it’s different from what I usually paint.