❦ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴇᴛᴇᴅ❦
"Why on earth would I stalk you?" He cocks a brow at me.
This cocky fucker.
"How would I know?" This conversation is getting nowhere. It only exhausted and annoyed me.
"You should have checked the road properly before exhibiting the act...
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What I intended on painting is totally different from what I now find myself painting.
I mix three different colours on the palette, before moving my fingers to the canvas with the brush in my hand. I let my fingers take lead of whatever I think am doing, but I honestly feel connected with the painting.
It's like I'm being hypnotized by my mind and my fingers are willfully obeying. I never plan on what to paint, I just let my imagination and emotions create whatever it wants me to create.
I hear the thunder rumble high above me and even if my focus is on the painting in front of me, I can still sense the darkening of the clouds.
Weston left to work in the morning, so I decided to get in touch with painting again. I brought the equipment back out to where Weston arranged them which is by the pool.
I dropped Brooke off at Emily's earlier, so it's just me at home.
After the very few number of words I gifted Weston with yesterday, he became way brighter than he was all week.
I'm trying to lighten up myself by painting as well and painting something lively or colourful. But it turns out my present emotion has created a great effect on what I'm producing.
I mixed different shades colours, but all of them seem to turn into dark colours. It didn't stop me though, infact it intrigued me in a way, but also saddens me.
Everywhere is black with the deepest shade of green outlining it. I can't exactly explain what I'm painting even if I try to. It looks so dark and not just the colours, but everything about the painting.
There are two figures representing humans and a feeling of fear washes over me as I take in what I had just done.
The whole scenery of it seems like someone running through a dark and empty path and open space, with nothing and no one in sight expect the other figure— also representing a human.
It's like the person is running from something....from someone. Running from the pain and adversity in their life, but the more the person ran, the more they got nowhere.
I feel my eyes well up with tears uncontrollably. I start feeling water drops lightly tapping on me. It has started to rain, but I can't seem to move or do anything.
I've become planted on my stool like a glue, staring frighteningly at the painting before me. My heart begins pounding with fear and warm tears slide down my cheeks.
Why am I so scared?
As I look at the painting the more, the more it becomes real. No matter how much the person tries running, they only get nowhere. Why does it feel like it's me?
Did I just paint myself and have no idea I was doing so?
No matter how much I've tried to leave my past behind, it always catches up to me.
