Rhythm Of The Colors

Beautiful Tornado

Paint. Paper. Color. Art.

It's beautiful. What kind of beauty? It depends on the person who looks at it.

It could be the choice of colors, the symbolism, the unique texture, anything really...

So why can't I just get one painting right..?

I quickly pick up my paper towel frantically trying to dry the smudge of watercolor on my paper.

I groan.

"Painting again?" I quickly turn around on my heel to see my sister standing at the door.

"Oh... It's just you..." I relax my shoulders and turn back to my ruined painting.

"Just me? Why, were you expecting someone?" I hear the sarcasm in her voice as she approaches me with slow, steady strides.

"No... I just though-"

"I know," She sighs, "when will you stop sneaking around? If mum finds out that you aren't spending every spare second focusing on you're studies she'll kill us both-"

"She wont." I say sternly.

"Don't be so sure. If I could catch you red handed so easily, mum could do the same."

"She's out for the weekend and you know it." I swirl my brush in my cup watching the ultramarine blue paint drain into the semi-clean water.

My older sister sighs taking a step back. "You never know... close your door next time. We both know that you aren't the best at keeping secrets."

I feel a tinge of pink creep up to my cheeks at her words.

I wouldn't say that I wasn't good at keeping them. I was great at keeping them. Hiding them was my problem.

"Shut up.." I mutter walking past her to my bathroom, cup of colored water in hand.

I throw the dirty water out hearing Lucindas chuckle followed by her footsteps growing distant.

I watch the blue water flow down the drain, swirling like a tornado.

I feel ya paint...

My life is like a tornado too...

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I know, I don't like it either. I'll edit it later. It'll get better. Fingers crossed.

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