Maybe I'm Home

Well, There's A Problem

The next day of school is... Uneventful.

I go to classes, impress the art teacher, and do okay in everything else. (Well, save for math; why do we even have to take that class?) 

No, it's dinner that's a disaster.  Never a dull moment, am I right?  I'm sitting down at the table with the Attles, and we're all eating.  It's just a simple macaroni meal, and I'm enjoying it, and Raymond and Anthea are enjoying it, and Laila and Walter are enjoying it. But at the same time, the four Attles look on edge, and it's making me nervous.  It's like the look Raymond was giving Walter, but now it's all throughout the family.  I clench my fists nervously and Walter takes a deep breath to speak.

"So, Arlen, how is school?  You know, if you don't like the school, we could-"

"No," Laila cuts him off.  "I hope she likes the school but it's the only choice either way."

"We could send her to a private school if this one is no good for her!" Walter argues.  Laila stands up, slamming her hands against the table.

"No!" She screams.  "Don't be stupid!" Walter looks hurt- very different from the happy, smiling man I've seen for the past few days.  I glance nervously at Raymond, who nods sadly.  Anthea shakes a little bit, as if she's cold, but I suspect she's more scared.  Raymond stands up and says coldly,

"Don't argue about someone as if she isn't here.  Now if you'll excuse us."

He leaves the room and motions for Anthea and I to follow.  I look down as I go after him.  I knew this household couldn't be happy.  People don't work that way, I think.  It's a bit cynical, but it's true.  As we enter Raymond's bedroom, Anthea stares blankly and Raymond looks grim.

"Congrats, Arlen, you've seen the bitter truth in this household," he mutters.  I sigh and sit down. 

"I've seen worse," I remark.  Raymond's eyebrows shoot up, and Anthea has gone to play with some toy cars.

"Oh yeah, I've seen much worse, but I was expecting something to go wrong.  Humans can't live happily," I explain.  "For example, my fourth foster home was downright abusive."

Raymond picks up a finger trap and puts both fingers in it, clearly trying to distract himself as he talks.

"That's really sad," he states.  I shrug.

"I'm used to it."

"Yeah, well, that's good, because the world isn't a fun place, is it?" Raymond asks drily.  I shake my head.  The world is a hellhole, people are demons, the rest of life is a mess.  I learned that when my parents kicked me out for not believing in God.  Hey, they called me a demon, so I can't be too far off.  And my life's a mess and the only safety I can find is my art.  I stand up and pull out my sketchbook.  Raymond smiles slightly.

"You really do carry that thing everywhere, don't you?" He asks.  I chuckle.

"Just the sketchpad and a pencil.  I don't bring my painting supplies anywhere but my room," I reply matter-of-factly.  I take a moment to look around the room for inspiration.  It's got dark gray walls- not quite black, but close.  There's three windows, all above the bed that I'm sitting on.  They're in a straight, horizontal line, and are three circles.  I take a minute to look at the paint job and notice it's got yellow circles painted all around, a few feet up.  It's also got a couple of oxygen-tank looking things, with some low-quality telescope sort of objects sticking to the fan.  Even the bed is compact, and the rest of the room is filled with chairs and papers and tables.

It strikingly reminds me of a...

"Submarine?"

Raymond laughs.  "Yeah, a submarine.  Call me a loser, but I love those things.  My goal one day is to work in one, and help the military and- and stuff."

"No, Raymond, call me a loser.  My life goal is to be an art teacher," I respond.  Raymond rolls his eyes.

"Okay, loser."

I let out a faint laugh and start sketching.  "Raymond, can I borrow your phone?"

"Yeah," he says, handing it over.  I snatch it and look up what I need, then sketch accordingly.  Raymond peers over my shoulder, like, 'watcha doing?'

Another ten to fifteen minutes later, I have a rough sketch of the submarine and then a bit after, of the surrounding water and life.  I get up and leave the room without another word, and Raymond stands blinking after me, likely wondering what I was doing.

Answer, I was invading Anthea's room.  It's bright orange, with lots of candy designs and toys.  I see some dolls and books, and pick up a colorful rainbow dog toy.  I look it over and kidnap it for inspiration as I disappear into my room.

When I look at the rainbow puppy, I think of a bright sunny day.  Unlike today, I think ruefully.  It's currently quite cloudy.  I sketch a puppy, and instead of making him rainbow, I surround him in toys and put a huge rainbow in the background.  Then I pull out my painting supplies and get to work.

Come midnight, I'm only halfway through the submarine.  I'm getting pretty tired, so I set down my tools for the night and inspect my work.

The shading on that side could use a bit of work, to make it lighter, I note.  But the top bit of the water is really prettily colored.  I must say that adding the purple was a good idea.  I yawn and, careful not to touch the artwork, turn the canvas and easel so it can't be seen from the front angle of the room.  I am, after all, trying to keep this a secret until both are done.  That'll take a solid four days.

I stretch out on the mattress and pull the sheets over my head, soon falling asleep.