Racing into the night

Two

Next week when he saw her she was on the rooftop, with their painting canvass and all the necessary equipments with her. Looking at the sunset sky and taking it in, trying to draw it the way it was-perfect.

Even if the sky was peaceful in front of her and bright, full of hope, she ended up making it more depressing and nervous. In her painting there was no hope, but only thing she could ever hope was to wake up and be able to draw again. Nothing else, just drawing.

"You cannot kill these beautiful colors with your coke matches." He mumbled behind her while his point finger was on his chin and one hop up, trying to balance on one leg  " you see I'm not expert in these stuff but your painting is sad, the current sky is more cut like hmmm bright, full of hope and full of awareness for the next day while your painting is dreading each of them" he tried to search for the perfect fit of words for it but no use, there was not really anything that could explain her painting.

"I do not like copy pasted paintings. The artist is not an artist u til they are able to convey their feelings perfectly through their artwork. I achieved my goal of showing you my emotions. She said without looking at the boy and continued nervously stroking the brush.

"What's your story that it's this sad?" Boy blurred out, not even thinking carefully what he was saying. When he realized it he got to smack his hands over his mouth and his eyes were about to fall out of its sockets. "I'm sorry I did not meant to-" he tried apologizing but girl shook her head

"Would you tell a stranger your story?" She calmly breathed out and put down a brush, taking her apron off and stretching her muscles. Her shirt slightly rode up on her stomach, showing scars which were not the pleasant to look at.

"Yes." Boy sternly answered after thinking for a second and observing her.

"Exactly- wait what? Why would you do that? They won't ever understand you!" The girl was shocked, loss at words, even thinking about talking to a stranger gave her anxiety. Not being able to look at him from eye to eye was because of  her anxiety. She is scared of people, hence why she is always alone by herself and barely talking to anyone if it's not needed.

"Yes but they will not judge" he shrugged, not really understanding her.

"But-" she shuttered. Not being able to think what to say next. Everything sounded so unbelievable to her. "So you can just talk about your story with me without even caring?" She asked once again, trying to double check what she heated previously.

He frantically nodded "I can tell you my story if you want"

Her blue eyes started nervously looking around, not really knowing what to say, did she want to her his story?  Or did she not want to? Was she searching for a way to escape? Or was she ready to talk to a stranger or even listen to the strangers story? She was lost, but no answers came her way. She had enough on her plate and it felt like he was making it worse.

"I-" she shuttered " i- im not ready to. I prefer to be strangers with you for now." She was trying to block this young guy out from her brain and her life, not giving him even a smallest chance to be around her, know her, even befriend her.

She saw how he glitched and in that moment could swear that he was not even real and only part of her imagination. After all who would b interested to know her? No one. She was just that crazy artist everyone feared and stood away from her. It broke her many times, it's right but she believed art was saving her, keeping her where she should be and not six feet deep in the ground. It kept her insane mind sane.

"Did you finish that painting you were drawing previously?" He asked, she was grateful that he changed the subject and did not pressure her to anything she did not want to.

She just nodded and quietly led him to her painting, which was behind many paintings already.

Some would say she was existing and not living, only knowing the rush of the painting and nothing else, but in reality she was living, living more than a normal person should have. She felt everything more than she should have, she felt her blood rushing desperately to keep her alive, her heart beats always rang in her ears and everything around her was always touching her inside and out, she felt the nature, all the atoms and sparkles that can be alive and "breathing". She felt trees, flowers, wind, she felt all of those more than she should have. Maybe that's why she went crazy at young age. Or maybe it's deep psychological trauma of abandonment by her mother which made her look for something to feel and not feel alone. Maybe that's when she clicked with nature or felt everything around her. Even she did not know answer to that.

"Are you going through this? Not knowing your emotions and feeling everything at the same time?" He whispered, immersed in the painting and looking at every detail carefully, analyzing it and looking for deeper meaning to it.

"Sometimes " she answered, not giving the details because she was not ready. Yes it was her. But that painting was trying to show all the people with depression and anxiety and how the brain is eating them alive. Even at this right moment she was dying from overthinking, anxiety and depression, stress that she cannot escape no matter how her she tries. Maybe she unconsciously describes herself on her paintings. She doesn't know. She wants to give up everything that is around her because she is just so tired. But knowing she won't be able to draw again stops her. She's just too exhausted.