Bound

Chapter 2: Paintbrush

Emily

The harsh rays of light shining through my blinds force me to a more conscious state. Of course, I turn over under my blanket and try to ignore them entirely, but they aren't going anywhere.
I roll back over, this time fully stretching as I do. The discernible sound of multiple bones cracking throughout my body encourages me further to get out of bed.

I listen to my body and finally push myself up, only to go use the bathroom. My toes and feet crack on the cool hardwood floor the entire way there.

The rest of my morning routine is shorter than normal. I only brush my teeth then decide to stay in my robe from last night instead of dressing myself or fixing my hair.
The tiny but comfy bed in the corner is the only place I need to be today, so I proudly return to it. This is a good start to a perfectly productive, unproductive day.

After what seems like hours of snacking, watching various YouTube videos, and scrolling through my phone, I decide I should take the time to work on a painting I've been dying to finish. It's a scene of a lake littered with beautiful fish and a couple sat side by side on a curved bridge, watching them swim.

Painting may be the only thing I'm good at. When I paint, I feel like I'm in my own world-one that I control. It's the most peaceful my mind can be.

I gather my supplies and lay them out on the small desk next to my easel.
Pulling at a tie on my wrist, I promptly toss my hair into a messy bun before I begin.
I choose my colors and start squeezing them onto my palette. Black, then brown, then I grab for the green tube of paint. I try just like with the other tubes to squeeze out a desirable amount, to no avail. I didn't notice when I picked all the colors up at once, but my green is empty. So empty that I can't manage to force out enough to even coat my brush once. And I can't finish a lake scene without green. I remember that was why I quit in the middle of painting last time.

Sighing, I mope over to my supply bin in a desperate attempt to find another tube. No luck.
I guess I will have to go out today seeing as it's the only chance I'll have to drive to Lisa's Art Shop this week.

In a hurry, I slip on the first pair of dark blue jeans that I can find and pair it with an oversized dark gray t-shirt that was thrown sloppily about on my dresser. I consider fixing my hair from its' messy bun but decide against it since I'm only going in the shop for a couple of minutes and I never see many people in there, certainly never anyone I know at least.

I slide a pair of worn-out combat boots onto my feet then grab my keys, phone, and wallet.

I want to be back home before I even leave. Nonetheless, I climb into my car and start the engine before backing out and continuing off to Lisa's shop.

When I pull into the parking lot, I notice the lack of vehicles here on a Sunday. The usual bright blue Corolla that belongs to Lisa is parked in front of the tiny brick building. There's also a black and chrome Harley Davidson motorcycle parked directly in front of the doors. I pull up and park next to it.

That's weird. I never see many men in here for some reason, especially not the type I'd assume ride that. Not just because he's a man but because he can afford such an expensive bike, mostly. What could someone like that be doing at an arts and crafts supply store? That is assuming it's a man's bike.
I couldn't drive that.
The doorbell jingles when I walk into the shop, and I'm immediately greeted by Lisa's warm welcome.
"Hey there, Emily! How are you?" She smiles her great, big smile as she always does, and I swear her tone could put angels to sleep.
Her energy is contagious. She's one of those people who can make you feel good just with the way she holds herself and talks to you.
"Good, and you?" I reply shyly.
She's sitting behind the counter painting a beautiful picture of a pink anemone flower and pausing in between to chat with me. Her long blonde hair falls in tiny waves to the very bottom of her back. She can't be more than forty, but she looks more like twenty-three with the way she dresses and fixes her makeup. Her outfits are always artsy and flowy, accessorized with earrings, necklaces, and big, chunky bracelets. Her makeup never fails to match her shirt and it always looks amazing on her big blue eyes. She likes to gloat about having more freedom with which colors she uses on her eyes because just about anything works with her shade of blue.