Artist Fingers (On Hold)

(1) Nightmares

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                      "Art is the only way to run away without leaving home."  ~Twyla Tharp

                                                                          Chapter One

    I woke up with tears streaming down my face. Another nightmare. It was typical, something I had gotten used to over the years. It wasn't abnormal in this house.

Slowly, I stood up and made my way across my bare concrete floor to the cramped bathroom. My footsteps barely making a sound as I peeled off my sweaty pajamas and melted into the shower. The water hit me like a warm summer rain, it's pellets running down my bare skin as I scrubbed the shampoo into my scalp. The fruity smell overwhelming me as the water poured over me.

After washing out the soap, conditioner and shampoo. I carefully draped the fluffy blue towel around my body and walked back into my closet or what you would call a bedroom.

My room was painted with different murals around the windows and along the walls. Painting supplies and  clay models cluttered the concrete floor that was stained with red and yellow paint from my previous works.

A bright, paint splattered dress hung on my bathroom door, the one I had designed myself, but had never gotten a chance to wear. I didn't go to my art shows after all. I wasn't Juno Ritchfield in the world I adorned so much. I was Mabel Hart, the most successful 17 year old Artist in the world. But nobody knew I was me, that was the whole idea. I could live a normal life, and still be an Artist at the same time.

I cocked my head to the side as I pulled out a knee high skirt, and a blue button shirt that went to my elbows. My feet slipped into the heels beside my bed in a slow rush. It was still early for me and everyone else in this house.

As quiet as I could be, I  picked up my worn out backpack and slipped out the front door. I was ready for another day of school. Another day of quiet.

Before I could reach my Mazda 3, I pulled my thick brown hair into a messy brown. I didn't usually wear make-up. It was a bother to put on, it was rare for me to wear heels as well. But these lot cut, innocent ones fit me perfectly. No one would raise an eyebrow or stare too long with these. I didn't want to stand out after all.

Without speaking, I peeked into my car and entered the keys into the ignition. Time for another day of no speaking, and cowering in the shadows.

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I slowly pulled into my local high school's  parking lot, my face blank as I bit my lip and searched for a decent parking spot. I was fairly early, but that didn't mean there was alot of spots left. No siree, even if you got there 2 hours early, the best spots were still taken. Some people say they move their cars in at midnight and hitch a ride to school in the morning. Just so they can brag about it. I'd rather just stick with driving my car to school back and forth, thank you very much.

"Hey muteo." a shrill voice screeched, very clever Barbie #3.

They usually didn't pay any attention to me, unless there was a new kid and they were trying to show off.  Great, a new student to stare at me like I was some plague. Note the sarcasm please?

I'm not looking for attention, nor do I feel like I have a horrible life. If anything, I have it better then a lot of people at my school. I was only teased when new kids came in, which wasn't often here.