You don't even want me

55.

[Camille]

I stared around my room, my eyes scanning everything there. From the pictures of my and my sister at the top of my mirror, to my closet, which had one door open and I could see all the colours of the different pieces of clothing, even though they were all in autumn shades, to end at my own feet and socks, which were navy blue.

I didn't have anything to do, it was a regular Sunday afternoon; we didn't have any homework, I'd talked to Jasmine and we were on good terms again, I'd told James everything, I'd read every book on the shelf above my desk and I didn't really feel like going for a walk, the weather wasn't ideal.

For one of the first times in my life, I was bored. Really bored.

I sighed, and the flowers on my wall caught my eye. I actually really liked all those bright colours and drawings on my wall, I'd once seen it in a movie and I wanted it too, so my Dad bought me a book, 'How to draw flowers in 10 steps'.

I loved the book a lot, I knew back then I couldn't draw but I was good at copying, so I just copied exactly what the book said; less than a week later than my father had given me the book, there were already 4 painted flowers on my wall.

I chuckled and shook my head, feeling a little sad that I hadn't drawn any new ones in the past 2 years.

I bit my lip and my eyes trailed off to the books on my shelf, recognising the back of the one with the explanation of the flowers immediately.

I hesitated a bit before getting up from my bed and walking over to my desk, reaching for the book on the shelf. My fingers grabbed it and I held it in front of me for a few seconds, staring at the cover. A yellow narcis was explained on it in 10 easy-looking steps.

In graceful, white letters, the title was shown in a light green frame and when I opened the book, my fingers traced over the words written with a black pen on the white page.

'For my little girl' it said, in my Dad's handwriting.

I smiled at it, reading the words over and over again, and the more I read it, the clearer I heard his voice saying it. I chuckled, shaking my head.

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Dad" I whispered, expecting there to be tears forming in my eyes, but to my surprise, there weren't. I was actually content in that moment, nostalgic.

I opened the book and paged through it, looking at all the different flowers and skipping the ones where I'd put a checkmark, signaling that I'd already drawn it before. The book suddenly fell open at the page of the tulip, a piece of paper resting between the pages.

I slightly frowned and carefully grabbed the paper out of the book, looking at it a little confused. When I saw half a tulip drawn on it, though, I remembered what it was.

I stared at the fine sketch lines in pencil of the stem and a few petals, the bowl as indication for where the petals had to come still slightly visible. I wondered if I should try and finish it. I thought about it for a few seconds and then sat down behind my desk, placing the book and the sketch in front of me.

I turned on the lamp on my desk and positioned it a bit better over the drawing, standing up again to grab the metal box off the shelf.

I stared at the graceful, curved lines engraved in the lid and opened it, all the colours of the little paint tubes being a pleasure to my eyes. The insides of the silver box had a few lines on them in different colours of paint that I'd done accidentally. I searched my pencil and eraser in the box and once I found it, I sat in front of my paper again.

I stared at it, suddenly kind of freezing in my tracks and wondered if it was a good idea to try or not, because it didn't always end well.

I decided to do it anyway and quickly tied my hair up in a high but loose bun, not wanting it to be so tight it would hurt.