The Black Canvas

Black

Ellis began to look worried. "What happened?"

"I found this box, Ellis. With these drawings in them." Marisole handed Ellis the papers. For a second, he looked at them reluctantly, then he finally took them in his hands. Marisole's pulse quickened with each drawing he looked at. Ellis was concentrating intensely. She noticed he stiffened when he got to the picture with the boat. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh, ready to explain herself.

"I just found them in this little red box and I am still so fucking confused- why did I have drawings of you? This is so weird, and I don't know if somebody had drawn them and broke into my house, or if-"

"I'm sorry." Ellis simply says, cutting Marisole off. She stares at him.

"What do you mean?" She persists. He looks away. "Why are you apologizing?"

"Marisole, these are your drawings."

She freezes and shakes her head defensively. "No, no no no, that doesn't make any sense-why would I-"

"Marisole," Ellis gets closer, but she just backs up, "You drew these when you were 13."

"I didn't even know you when I was 13! You would've been 19 anyway, and that would've made you a pedophile!" Marisole points at him angrily.

"Listen, Marisole, I wasn't-"

"Don't fucking tell me lies!" Marisole screamed, her voice raw.

"I'm not lying to you, baby, I never lied to you, and I never will." Ellis tries to consol her and grab her hands, but she pushes him away.

"Bullshit! I never knew you! You are a scam, you're pranking me! Why can't you leave me alone?"

"That would be impossible."

"You make me sick, I'm actually gonna call the police if you don't leave, right now."

"You created me, Marisole!" Ellis finally shouts, and everything goes silent. "You gave me life. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

"Really? That's how low you're going? Just stop it. I'm not buying your shit." Marisole shakes her head and walks away.

"You were 13 when you ran up to the attic to hide. You were bleeding from your forehead. Did you see the spots on the drawing?"

She stops walking. "Excuse me?"

"Just come look at this."

Marisole turns around and stares at him. She walks back and takes the drawing, examining the faded brown spots that were splattered on the corner. She looks up at him, dumbfounded.

"How did you know?" She asked him with apprehension.

"You needed a friend, so you began to draw a man, not really going off of somebody as a reference, only looking into your mind for aid. This man was different. He wasn't perfect to the world, but he was perfect in your eyes. And that's what was important.

"I became that person that comforted you and made you feel like you were somebody. And look at this," Ellis takes out the drawing with the both of them on the boat, "You drew this so we could sail away together. Just the two of us."