Our Anguished Hearts

Our Ugly Truths

The art room is amazing it's almost everything I imagined my studio to be like. It's huge and it has 4 sections. One section is for painting and there were 10 canvases all in rows with every color that exists all on a table and 50 different brushes all set in order on the table, too. Then there was a section for sculpting with 20 huge blocks of clay stacked on the table in between the 8 potter's wheels. The third section was for sketching a drawing and there were 12 circular tables that had 3 different size sketchbooks on it with every color crayon, marker, and colored pencil on each table. Then finally the last section which looks like it was just one huge U shaped table where you could I guess create things; make things that only your wildest dreams provide the things for but they were all there from poster boards to blow dryers.

 Everything.

It is astounding.

"I take it you like the art room." Aiden asked whispering in my ear from behind while I was still gazing at everything. This was one of the 2 classes we all shared.

"Yes." I said simply before I was off.

When I was on the bridge I stormed up an idea and now was the perfect time to make it a reality.

I went to the sketching section and began doing just that and the biggest paper at one of the tables. I drew everything from that night from the old rusty red bridge to the deep dark blue of the ocean then the bright blindingly white lightening flashes that looked as if they had a purple glow to them. Then there was the huge gathering clouds that looked as if you were to lay on them you would feel like you were in heaven and there grayish blue color scheme.

I sketched and shadowed then colored. I did everything never once taking my eyes off of my creation. It was mine. My beautiful pain or you could say my attractive suffering. It was perfect.

It was gorgeous. With the red of the bridge, the navy of the ocean, the purple glow of the lightening, the grey almost blue of the clouds, and the black boxes with the yellow dots of the city behind it all but it was missing something. Something I couldn't figure out.

They're always missing something.

What's wrong with it?

Why aren't they ever good enough?

I felt my eyes tear up as all my new friends rushed to my colored waste of paper. They congratulated me telling me I have talent saying it was beautiful.

But all I could do was cry and crying is a sign of weakness.

So I ran and I ran until I found a bathroom. I calmly walked into the last stall. I kicked the wall and tugged at my hair. What are they always missing? How come they aren't ever good enough? They all lack something and I can never find out what it is. I punched the wall over and over again until I noticed that I was painting it except the brush was my knuckles and the paint was my blood.

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I ever make them look good?

I heard feet running into the stall but all I could do was melt on to the floor and cry my eyes out.

"Lil? Lil I know that's you! Open up please. Why are you crying?" I heard question after question spill from Em and Daren’s mouth.

But then nothing like they all just vanished until I heard a thump a couple of feet away from me. I slowly raised my head and stared wide-eyed at Aiden.

"But-How did you? What?" I asked.

"You were crying and wouldn't open the door so I climbed over the wall." He told me and then shrugged like it was a normal reaction of his.