This is a spin-off of several works I have completed or are currently underway.
This series of short stories will follow a few of my characters through the rehabilitation process until they have their moment of clarity.
Some issues dealt with in thi...
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Nobody said anything to Brad when he walked into Art Therapy three days later.
We'd all been on the lookout, nobody catching a glimpse of him. Until now.
Rebecca glanced toward me, offering me a slight nod.
She was willing to do her part.
Flower Crown clapped her hands together. "Okay, guys. Who can guess what fun craft we'll be tackling today?"
Dr. Pulitz had told me her real name, Genevieve, but I think that Flower Crown better suited her.
"Pictures of rainbows and kittens," Brittany deadpanned, causing the rest of us to bust out into laughter.
"This is a negativity-free area," Flower Crown reminded her. "Take a few deep breaths and come back to us when you're ready."
Brittany just rolled her eyes in response.
"I want everyone to take a pen and write down across the tops of their papers a word that they think defines their existence. Non-weight related."
I uncapped the pen I'd taken earlier before writing my word across the top in big, bold letters.
PERFECTION.
"Once that's done, I want you to draw whatever comes to mind when you think of that word," Flower Crown continued. "You're welcome to verbalize the word if you think it'll help. You're welcome to meditate upon it, to chant it. Whatever you think will help you reach the center of your emotions."
Kelani glanced toward me, irritation evident on her face.
I just giggled in response.
"Whatever she's smoking, I want in," Kelani whispered, as we set to work on our creations.
I had to cover my mouth this time, as Flower Crown glanced in our direction. "This isn't a time for chit-chat, girls. Try to really hone in on the project at hand."
The talking around the table ceased, everyone focusing on their artwork.
For the first time since I'd started here, I found myself taking the assignment rather seriously. I was no artist, but I wrote captions next to my drawings, identifying exactly how I feel.
I hope that was allowed.
As I continued slashing my pen across the page, I felt a sudden rage inside of me. I don't know why I was angry or what at, but it helped to fuel the piece I was creating.
"Okay, pens down guys."
I glanced up at Flower Crown, suddenly remembering that I was in an Art Therapy class. I let the pen drop onto the table, letting out a long exhale.
I released the tension I was holding in my shoulders, feeling my body start to deflate.
I couldn't explain the sudden serene feeling I was experiencing, but it was as though a weight had been lifted off of my chest. All because of this art piece.
