To belong in Silence

Primitive

A small queen sized bed sat near the corner of a rectangular room.
Papers and receipts trailed around the shaggy green carpet from the overflowing waste bin. There was one large window covered by old velvety drapes that were probably the color of blue before; now resembling many different colors. The walls were stark white, one picture of a smiling couple hung parallel to the bed where a tv should have been. The kitchen area was tucked into another corner of this stale place. Hints of broken glass littered the ground around the bed.

The small bed radiated enough heat for two bodies, but only one moved now. Up and quick, she got out of bed. He didn't stir in his sleep after her. She moved into the rays of sunshine that bursted through the slits of the drapes.
The large body mirror she passed gave her a taste of her naked body, and she hopped into the shower lathering herself with soap under the harsh water.
After her skin was raw she covered herself in the lotion she thought he liked. She dressed aimlessly, pulling on random articles of clothing.
She peered into a larger piece of the cracked mirror that sat on the wall of the bathroom at a large cavity in one of her wisdom teeth.

Fully dressed, she peaked back at the lump on the right side of the bed. It was just the two of them. But sometimes it felt like it was just her. There he breathed slowly. So she left. Her heart ached.
As soon as she was out the door her phone rang.

"Hey Dru, on your way?"

"You know it."
She trudged down the stairs of the apartment building.

The sun brought light to her outfit: an orange children's shirt she thrifted showed off a wild happy trail, an over washed pair of black jeans showed wear in both knees, and a burgundy pair of vans chafed her bare feet.

"Any better last night?" the voice in her phone buzzed.

"Nah, this time I didn't even hear him come in."
She walked past faces she didn't know, it didn't matter. She didn't want to know anyone. Her days were the same, even if the bright sun out today made
it quite stifling to wear clothes. She made it a point to never be like the sleaze balls she saw on the daily in streets of New York, they all wanted a piece of "The Big Apple".

"Whaddaya want?"
"Decaf. Hazelnut," she waited at the crosswalk by herself. There weren't many people on the streets begging this morning. Not that she noticed them much anyway when she wasn't out doing it herself.
She walked across the street and a girl with coffee cup in hand fell into step with her.
Dru stuffed her phone in the back of her jeans, "Thanks Luce," she said as she took her coffee.

Lucy had brown and gingery hair that flowed by her shoulders. She wore brown rimmed circle glasses, white overalls stiff with dried paint from which a broken bra strap hung, and cheap flip-flops.
"No problem Dru, Mike will always give us the hook up."

"So what are we doing today?"
they stopped to sit on a weather beaten bench.
Dru sipped her coffee squinting, after her scorched tongue watered her mouth she said, "Let's look through open windows and paint the sad people."

Lucy sipped her coffee and her glasses fogged, "Sounds like a plan."

For the last two days they had done the same thing.

Once they found their traditional dumpster spot, they scouted the area for windows that had minimal to no blinding views.

They spotted two vantage points and climbed down from the lids and made their way to Dru's grandfather's shed. It was technically unowned since he passed away decades ago, but the pair hid their art supplies inside and surprisingly they were yet to be disturbed.

They each picked over their broken down easels, only needing to utilize their boards. They only used their full easels if they were doing public shows.
They did many in Brooklyn or around St. Marks, it wasn't the season yet.

Once they got their paints they headed out.

The smell of burning noodles filled their nostrils as Dru and Lucy painted distraught faces of a small nursing home. As pale and whitewashed the scene actually was, they were depicted among the flowers and sometimes in a paradise with assumed family.

"You think we should tell the nurse they're burning something in there?" Lucy said as her paintbrush stroked the canvas.
They sat in front of the large window, it looked right into the dull lives of blue haired old women. Dru and Lucy sat comfortably with their legs crossed and their backs towards the sidewalk on the large window-sill.
All of the old women ranged from the far end of african american to looking a little bit asian. Expressions still as they watched the small electric box with glassy eyes.
"No i think that's how it always smells in here," She glanced at Lucy a little sad, "It's really a shame cooping them up in here like this. They should get some fresh air."

After a while longer, they finished their paintings.
"Alright come on who'd you draw," Lucy asked.

Dru sighed and twisted her wrists so that she could see the image.
"You drew that native american lady," Her eyes were fascinated, "You really drew her face well, she has amazing cheekbones. It wouldn't kill her if she smiled though."
Lucy sat up now, "Guess who I drew!"
"You probably drew that lady with the rocks for hands!" Dru laughed.
"Aw you know me well, and that's not nice! Her arthritis looks really bad what if that happened to you?" Lucy spoke in defense as she showed Dru the painting.
She drew the woman with a forced smile, her hands weren't very exaggerated but blue lilies surrounded her.
"Looks good Lucy, as always." Dru smiled at the painting, her smile died down a little. Silence fell briefly as she remembered painting with the full gang. And how much fun it was to paint-hustle with Mart. My life is such a droned pain in the ass.

"Druella," Lucy intruded her unspoken words.
Dru turned her attention to her friend, expecting the next phrase like it was scheduled.
"I worry about you, you know?" her voice was gentle.

Dru turned around and faced the sidewalk, she let her legs hang down the side of the window sill.
"Druella!"
"What?!" she exhaled harshly, "I know you worry about me Lucy, dammit."

"Then tell me what the hell is wrong with you, you've gone weeks and weeks looking shittier and shittier," Lucy matched Dru's position.
People passed by taken aback by their sudden volume, and admiring their paintings that lay propped up against the building.

Dru shut her eyes, "I don't know Lucy, okay?" She brought her hands to her face out of habit, "just don't beat me up about it."

"Dru you're far too pretty to be moping around like a zombie," Lucy became less aggressive at her, at her friend's request. "I've been the passive little friend you've wanted all up until now, but now I want my damn friend back."

Dru had wanted Lucy to ignore her change in behavior, it was much to her liking, still she knew Lucy would began to protest for answers.
"I just can't cope with this shit anymore Lucy, you don't how it feels..."

"How it feels to what? Druella spit it out."

A croaky deep voice came from behind them, "Hey girls! I brought donuts for you!"
They both groaned simultaneously in annoyance.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Hey guys if you liked this first bit of the story please COMMENT i want to hear opinions and things, and don't forget to VOTE. thanks!