Slipping

Introduction

Most of my life, from the age I can remember at least, I've been in love with art. I started with painting the smooth rocks that I found in my grandmothers fountain, but as I got older I began to start sketching on any surface I could get my hands on. From loose pieces of wood in my backyard, to the opened mail my grandmother left lying on the dining room table. I began to experiment with different medias, and I found that there wasn't a single one that I could not connect with. Art was my calling. If I believed in "callings" that is. But, art was definitely something I saw myself building my entire life upon.

I wanted to sell my work, and make a life for Poppy and I. Not that we didn't have a good life, because my grandmother tries her hardest to make sure Poppy and I have everything. She's been a rock for both of us. I never truly understood the hardship of having to be both a mother, and a father to two little girls. Nana could have retired long ago, but she continued working so she could make enough money to ensure Poppy and I had everything we ever dreamed of. She had even saved enough money when I was sixteen to get me a used car from the dealership two towns over. Nana was the only person who told me never to give up on my dreams. Whereas most people would say that there was no money in art. But not my nana. She believed in me. My grandmother is the only reason I am who I am today.

Who am I, you ask? My full name is Ellouise Charlotte Markle, but Nana began calling me "Lou" when I was just an infant. Poppy however, her name is Penelope, but as a five year old I could really only mutter out "Poppy." She was beautiful, just like our mother.

Poppy never got to meet our mother. She had a brain aneurysm during the birth of my baby sister. Although, I do tell her every day how beautiful she was, or at least how much I remember of her. Like I mentioned before, I was only five when Poppy was born. She's fourteen now, and she is absolutely beautiful. Soft, brown hair, almost the color of caramel. And piercing blue eyes that could see into your soul. She got them from our mother. I, on the other hand, got my looks from my father. Dark, uninspiring brown hair, and green eyes that remind you that of a Hallow's Eve cat. As an act of rebellion, my hair has bright pink tips now. I thought it to be an act of self expression, when really it's just a plethora of hot oil treatments to fix my fried, dead ends. I thought that maybe adding the pop of color would steer everyone's eyes away from my clearly forgettable face. And let's be honest, it pisses people off, too.

I didn't peg myself as much of an influence, let alone a negative one, that is until Poppy asked me if I would dye her hair, too. I explained to her that she shouldn't destroy her naturally beautiful hair.

"But yours is so pretty, Lou!" She'd protest. She had a point, it was extremely vibrant, but still damaging. Giving me compliments were not a way to persuade me to even think of ruining her stunning, caramel locks. I never did understand how my sister grew such perfect hair, whereas mine is, well, mediocre.

"Poppy, I can't let you fry your hair like a funnel cake at the carnival." I explained. She seemed to pout, but quickly her eyes found a light. "What's that look for, P?" I could tell she was up to something. Poppy is smart, but her poker face is that of a child.

"My birthday is next week, and I know what I want!" Poppy shouted. "Since you won't let me dye my hair, even though Nana said it was OK with her," she said. Nana won't say 'no' to either of us. She feels as though we've endured enough loss, she didn't want to take anything away from us, within reason. Which meant she would never take away a chance for either of us to express ourselves. "I want something... Personal. Just don't shut it down right away, I know how you feel about personal pro-"

"You want a painting, don't you," I interrupted. "And the answer is no. I mean, Your birthday is next Wednesday, that's in six days. About how long do you think a painting takes for me to do?"