forbidden-lrh

59- It Won't

Painting.

Painting can be so relieving, so relaxing in every way.

Evelyn glanced over to her walls, looking at all the ways, the colors splattered in beautiful swirls and figures.

She couldn't sleep- not at all.

Awake since 4:00 am, in fact. It was impossible to imagine sleep anymore, not these days.

Evelyn took a paintbrush in her hand- a large, thick one. She stayed still for a moment, just watching the walls as if something would appear. As if they would start moving with life and light.

They did not.

Of course they did not.

In one motion, she dipped the paintbrush in white, turning to the wall and pressing the flat edge against the wall. Evelyn began painting broad strokes roughly, covering up the bright colors in passion.

It began to swell in her, all these emotions. Her mom leaving, her father's divorce, Patrick, Michael, Luke.

It was all too much.

Her vision clouded with tears and she continued covering up all the walls, quickly painting white over and over again- her movements got faster in pain and in despair.

It wasn't until 7 am, when her alarm went off, that she pulled away from the walls. Her breathing was heavy as she wiped the sweat from her face, looking around the walls. The walls were now completely blank all the way around, all of her art and layers of color gone.

A dull white lay in its place.

Evelyn took a shower as she stared at the wall in front of her.

Seems like I've been staring at walls for hours now.

Evelyn always loved the hot water. Something about the burn, the way it washes over a person truly entranced her. It's a meditation of sorts, combined with a boost for her senses. Showers are a mood elevator, taking her higher and into a place that nobody can find her.

And as the water washed over her body, she felt more than just that leave her.

Something inside her switched, a release of emotions that she hadn't felt before. Her normally stiff posture loosened, relaxing in her shoulders. A slow smile crawled over her face as she rubbed the water out of her face.

Evelyn was not happy, not over anything whatsoever.

It hurt to be so far away from Luke, to not see him in the way she wanted to.

But, somehow, she felt better today. Something about painting, cutting her hair, reinventing herself in a way she hadn't ever.

Evelyn stepped out of the shower, getting dressed. Though it did not matter to her what she wore, it just so happened that she pulled out a correctly matching outfit. Evelyn had no energy to fix anything anyways- it was purely by luck that it had happened.

She placed it on sluggishly, still tired from her lack of sleep.

Someone walked by her room, her immediately noticing it to be her brother, Michael.