The Perfect Shade of Red [OLD]

CHAPTER 1

November. A month with little to no excitement, as it all goes to the mother of holidays: Christmas. November was no different to Helen, the leaves nearing the end of its colour change. The only sort of excitement laid for this month was the dawn of snow. The crisp cool air warning those around that snow would be coming soon.

Helen sighed as his gloved hands grabbed at a brown leaf, crumbling it. 'I don't even care for this time of year. The only good thing is the painting opportunities.' He thought. Before he could continue to think, a shrill voice broke his thoughts.

"Helen! How are you?? How was your halloween??" A short black haired female jogged up to him, her cheeks red from the cold air. Helen's blue eyes bore into hers, his disinterested face not brightening up.

"Hello Olivia. I thought you weren't going to talk to me anymore." He cut straight to the chase, not wanting to waste any breath on her. Her face became dejected as she put on a pout, attempting to seem cute.

"Helennn! You know that was just so my friends would leave me alone!! I can't stay away from you! You're-!"

"Don't even bother. I don't want you near me. We broke up. Stop trying to undo all the damage you did." Bored eyes turning into an angry glare, he turned around and began go walk off. The girl stood there stunned, her mouth agape but no words forming. "Stop making that face. You look like a fish out of water."

"I-i-i. How dare you! Why do you push me away! You were the toxic one!"

A once calm stride halted in place, his head turning a bit to see her. "I'm not the one who decided to spill the other's personal life to my bitch friends, now did I? I don't wanna hear about me being toxic when all you've confined to me has stayed with me. Do yourself a favour and leave me alone."

"Hmph! Fine!" She stomped away aggressively, trying to speed away from him.

"...fucking stalker." He started the walk home again, in a sour mood. 'There's no way she was just walking in the park. She never goes there, only went when I asked her to watch me paint. She KNEW I'd be there, especially this time of year.'

During the walk home, all Helen could thing about was how much he grew to despise the person he loved most.

Once home, he began to take his art supplies out of his brown satchel bag, placing then on his desk.

Helen grabbed his dull green sketchbook out of the bag. Flipping to a random page, there's a messy sketch of Olivia. His heartbeat quickened, not out of love but out of fear. 'We broke up. She went around behind my back and told everyone about my home. She told everyone about my desires. She also cheated.'

His left hand shakily grabs a charcoal piece, scribbling all over the sketch. His hate fueling how much he covered. You could not see Olivia anymore, just a messy blob. His hand was covered in the charcoal soot as he rubbed his face out of frustration.

"Fuck! I forgot I just fucking used charcoal..." Out of the pure frustration, he turned around hastily and made his way to the bathroom. 'Messy messy messy, that's all I am'. His mind began to jumble it's thoughts. "Oh Helen! Helen this, Helen that!" He mocked in a high-pitched voice. "Give me a fucking break. Just love how she went around reminding people my name is a fucking girls name."

After washing the charcoal off his face and hand, Helen went to the kitchen to get something to eat. His mother stopped him and grabbed his shoulder firm but lightly.

"Hello dear! What would you like for dinner? Your favourite, Peanut Butter and Jelly?"

Helen's face stayed neutral but on the inside he cringed. 'This woman just won't let it go. I'm not a child, I'm almost an adult.' "Um, no thank you mum. I'm gonna make myself something-"

"You- you- you ungrateful swine! I offer you the best dinner! The most expensive! And you refuse it?!" Her grip on his shoulder had tightened, attempting to hurt him.

He glared at her and kept a mostly neutral face. "Mother. I think you need to lay down."

She scoffed at him and let go. "I wish you were more like your sister. You're a no good boy." As she turned to go lay on the couch, the dry blood on her nostril was seen by Helen. His eyes darted to the living room table, a white salt like powder messily spread.

'How didn't I notice this when I came home.' Since Helen went right to his room in rage, he hadn't noticed the drug on the table. His mother was in the kitchen so he couldn't have seen her until now.

'I fucking hate it here. I just want a supportive parent. A non-delusional one too. I'm not her daughter. I was born a boy, why can't she love me?' Helen had grown used to these thoughts, it didn't bother him as much as it did growing up as a kid.

Appetite now gone, Helen went back to his room. Locking the door behind him,sitting at his desk. Inspiration came to him as he grabbed all the supplies with a adrenaline rush. Hunching over a bit, brushes rushed across the page, hands pressing lightly.

He had painting a person with a blacked out face, their hair being shoulder length and messy. Because of the excess water not being banged out of the brush, the paint had a runny effect, making the person distorted. The blacked out face running down the neck and chest of the person.

"Imperfect."

WRITTEN; NOV. 23 2021 1;43 AM
EDITED;