Artist's Soul

1-Clara

I sat up suddenly, trying to tame the unruly blonde hair on my head with one hand and aimlessly hitting my alarm clock trying to get it to shut up with the other. Once I was fully aware that I was awake and needed to get up, I stumbled out of bed and made my way into the bathroom. Rubbing my eyes, my vision went blurry before settling and letting me see myself in the mirror. I ignored the lion's mane on my head and instead looked at the masterpiece on my skin.

I had only got a look at it in the dark last night as it was painted, but it was more beautiful in the day. Spiked vines crawled down my neck and wove around my collarbone, looking almost 3D. The vines continued down my arm before they wrapped around my wrist forming almost a bracelet. What was truly beautiful, however, were the red roses that freely bloomed from the vines. They were beautiful but deadly- the shades of burning red a nice combination with my olive skin and the emerald green of the vines. I admired the painting before taking a quick photo on my phone and stripping down to shower.

Although I washed thoroughly, the painting didn't faint. That's how it works. I remember- the first time I got a message, a simple 'hi?', I thought that it could be washed off so I didn't wash my hand. Instead, they stay when you wash and fade over a day or so.

I ran down the stairs two at a time and had a bowl of cereal and fruit for breakfast, before sprinting back to my room to avoid my little brother who would be up soon. I don't know about you, but I'll never want to deal with a 13 year old boy first thing in the morning on a school day.

I slipped on a black tube top and some skinny jeans- the top displaying the whole painting in all it's glory. I dried my hair with my hairdryer and threw it up into an attempt at a bun- I was too lazy to try and style it. I brushed my teeth and applied simplistic makeup- just covering up a few things. No one was really happy with how they looked, and makeup was a great way to feel more secure about yourself. In my opinion, that is.

I picked up my backpack from the floor and flung it over my shoulder before heading down the stairs. My brother was now sat at the table eating, and I pulled out my phone to avoid conversation.

1 new text

It was odd for someone to be texting me this early. Confused, I unlocked my phone.

Natalie: Hey Clara! There's a new kid in our class today. Wonder what they're like. Hoping for a cute boy.

I laughed quietly to myself. That was stereotypically Natalie, swooning over boys. I didn't get the big fuss over boys, however, and tended to swing more in the other direction.

"What are you laughin' at?" Said Parker, my brother, pronouncing 'Laughing' like it had an 'f' in it; lah-fin. Sometimes I don't understand the way his generation pronounces things.

"Nothing, just Nat being herself. What's with the bags under your eyes? Just how late were you up talking to your soulmate last night?"

He was silent for a second.

"Until 10pm?" He said, asking me like I knew. All I did was give him an unimpressed look.

"Ok ok. 1am but I went straight to sleep after."

"Parker, you don't need to worry about a soulmate. You have years before anything is even legal."

"Says little miss show off." He said, pouting and knodding his head at my arm.

"Hey! I'm almost 18 and I need to meet my soulmate soon. Imagine if they live nearby..."

I got lost in thought about my soulmate, and didn't notice my mother walk in the room.