It only takes a week

Monday (4)

We walk down the hallway together not uttering a word. Just in complete silence, except our footsteps unwillingly synchronizing as we walk closer to math class. We enter class and we are immediately met by the class's eyes, they feast on us insatiable. Not long after our entry Lucas meets us with a cold tone "Welcome back, that took you long enough" "Sorry, i couldn't find the bathroom" "It's fine Gen, welcome back Alexander, where have you been" "Out smokin' what else" he walks in behind me casually sitting down in his then empty chair. Lucas crosses his arms ''You know you can't smoke on the school's premises''''Yeah I know that" Alexander turns his head to me, meeting my longing gaze, but I quickly look away. I can't believe he just caught me staring at him. "Alexander i'm going to have to do something about this" Lucas is now standing up, with the class attention evenly. "I don't have a problem giving my mother a visit. Alexander's face was showing every card he had, he knew he had the cards to win, he just had to deliver. "Well you do that and for the rest of the class this is homework, plus the extra ten I'm printing for you right now and you can thank Alexander for that" Lucas sits down in his chair crossing his arms once again. The class didn't moan in discontent, I guess they were used to taking the fall from Alexander's stunts. I looked shocked over at Alexander, telling him with my eyes- that I was shocked that he was the principal's son and he didn't want to tell me. But all the pieces came together, his home was a prison without rules or consequences. A home keeps you away from the life you saw in every new student, that's why he showed me around without any satisfaction because he has lived here, that is why he isn't impressed by the tennis courts nor athletic field. The bells ring just as Lucas returns with a stack of warm paper printed to paint the victory in our faces, although I am not sure the battle is over yet. I grab a paper and walk to my room, pulling my phone out looking at the clock. It's 10.10. The time stands still in a world created for the restless and tortured youth. I walk into my room, sitting down on the floor, because the realisation has kicked my stomach out of place. I will be here forever and when forever ends I won't be the same, but who would be? I hear a knock and i yell "Who is it" still sitting down on the floor "Its Cat, can i come in" I pull myself op from the floor and open the door "Hello" i say opening the door and in barges cat "So what did you do in the bathroom alone with Alexander" i close the door behind her and watch herself become at home in my small room "Nothing" i say, thinking back to the boy wrapped in smoke and mystery "And i'm supposed to believe that?" "Yes Cat and i don't want you to spread shit okay" i look her dead in the yes as i would to my mother when she asked me to change my outfit before running, i always win when i give that stare "Of course I won't say anything, i'm not like that" she smiles and claps her thighs "We should head to visual art class "Do i have to" "Yes, you have a reputation to reside" "Why did i have to be born in a role i cannot act" i ask as she drags me out on the hallway, thats stuffed with students, all trying to reach there class in time. But they all clear a path for me, all looking at Cat and I as if we were some freak accident you want to look away from but you simply can't, because you're spellbound by Satan himself.

"Welcome all, I'm Amelia, your new art teacher. I've given you all three different colors on your palette and I want you to paint with only those colors. Today's theme is family, feel free to interpret however you want, let's get painting" She turns to the radio fidgeting with the electronics before pouring smooth tunes into the room. I turn to Cat, who's already painting "What do i do?" Grab an apron and start painting" she smashes a red dot in the middle of her canvas, making little drops of red paint hit my face, painting red freckles across my cheeks. "Right" I bite down on my lips as I walk towards the rack with the vibrant colored aprons. I look at the students' canvases. The colors are vibrant and joyful, reminding me of the time when a family was something you belonged to and somebody you were forced to be with, only because they were the ones bringing you into their world. I smile at someone's painting, its a big tree with apples, it takes me back to the time when my family went apple picking in the summer in Denmark. It was a fun trip, until we got recognized and had to flee the scene. I walk back down to my seet, filling in the empty spot in the cirkel. I take a deep breath, blowing air at my already dry canvas, I look down on my colors. Red, brown and Yellow. I dip the dainties pensle in ot, twirling it around before painting a long red line across the white square. Amelia is walking behind everyone examining their works, giving them help if wanted. I hope she doesn't stop at me. I dip my red pencil in the yellow creating a light orange color and with that color I paint a big question mark. I could feel Amelia hovering over my shoulder, looking straight at my garbage splatter "Could you explain what your thought process is" she looks down at my then back up at my work "Well i didn't really think and by the way i don't think we have met im Gen" i say looking up at her wrinkled cheeks, but her eyes does not meet mine. "Okay, i think your art is beautiful, but can you try to explain it anyway Gen" she says, still looking at my painting. "Well the red line represents my life and the question mark is my family. I don't know really ''I exclaim latting the pensle drowned in the dirty water. "I think your doing great Gen, keep painting, you don't have to explain art, its not meant to be explained" I smile as she walks away, making her skirt sway with every step she takes "I dip another pensle into the brown painting a thick brown string at the bottom, still not knowing what i'm doing. "Cat, can i see yours?" I say looking over at Cat, whose cheeks are covered in red paint. "Sure, promise you won't laugh" "Why would I laugh? '' She turns her canvas around showing me an abstract painting with paint splatter. "I like it better than mine, I think it's pretty," I say , smiling at the toilet art. "Thank you" she says with her cheeks mashed together by her wide smile, as she continues to paint, tilting her head, sticking her tongue out slightly as she splats the paint across. I return my eyes to my canvas, still looking confused. How can i paint something i don't hold dear to my heart, a painter paints what does not belong to them. They paint what they can't reach so they paint it reaching thousands. I look around in the class for inspiration, but I sadly don't find anything I can use and my eyes wander out the window, looking at the tennis court. The sweaty bodys running from side to side and the tiny speck of neon green, bouncing over the net, occasionally hitting the net on its way towards the other player.