In-Between The Lines

Chapter 4

The thing that no one understands is that so many aspects of their life depend on luck. Life is a lottery, and each day is a chance. So many things could happen in a single second: the death of a loved one, someone finding the person they'll spend the rest of their life with. But the thing that is most terrifying about this concept is that you never know which way the odds are pointing. You never know what will happen.

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I decided long ago that romances where delusions only found in movies and fictional works. My theory was supported by the fact that so many "relationships" ended up going horribly wrong. However, I also noticed that so many of the most sensible and strong people I knew were captured and changed by love, and I decided that romance was not a delusion that was found in movies; it was a trick in the real world that fooled even the most strong people. I don't envy the people who have found the person they love. I pity them.

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When I got home, I ate my dinner and went to the only safe place I knew: my father's wardrobe. It was made with dark chestnut wood that shone in the sunlight. Engraved on the front was a beautiful carving of a picturesque scene of a small clearing surrounded by trees. The clearing held frolicking fawns accompanied by their mother. When I reached the basement where it was held, I smiled and slowly walked toward it, admiring the last possession of my father as I always did when I looked upon it. I still remember him showing it to me when I was a very young girl.

"Be careful now," my father playfully scolded as I ran around the newly finished massive wardrobe. He picked me up and swung me around.

"Come look at this," he said, carrying me to the wardrobe and showing me the carving.

" I did this myself. There's the mother deer. She's protecting her children, just like I protect you. " He traced his fingers along the picture.

"Where's the daddy?" I asked, trying to locate the buck.

"I'm sure he's only away for a short time," he said. "He'll come back. Now listen here, Cassie. If one day I'm not here, I want you to come here when your angry, stressed, or sad. This is your safe place, and I want you to take care of it. "

He smiled and put me down. I didn't know at the time what he had meant, but I knew I would remember it.

The large wardrobe was still big enough for me to sit comfortably inside. Whenever I went there, I immediately felt a sense of calm.

As I turned on the small lightbulb inside, I took out the colored pencils and the paper I had brought with me. I closed my eyes, and my hands made the pencils dance across the paper as they slowly created the picture that was forming in my subconscious. My fingers flew across the paper, and I truly remembered why I loved art. Art was my way to speak without words. One drawing could convey a thousand unspoken sentences. When my fingers slowly faltered to a stop, I opened my eyes and gazed at my creation. It was a drawing of a doe and her children in a clearing, much like the carving on the wardrobe. But the mother deer didn't seem to notice the dark shadow that was moving towards her, hidden in the trees.

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I lay in my bed that night trying to decide if I would take Nathan's advice about the art show. After all, he was a complete stranger who I had never met before this day. I was perplexed at why he had chosen to talk to me, out of all people. I prided myself in my ability to blend into the background. I was the meaning in-between the lines of a book; I wasn't there unless people really looked for me. Eventually, I fell asleep. My last thought was the drawing I had made in the wardrobe. I wanted to warn the doe about the shadow in the trees, but she couldn't hear me.

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