At the lake

Chapter 9: Struggling for Air

"I need a large canvas and lots of acrylic paint." I demanded as I stormed through the doors.  I realised as I entered the workshop that no one else was here; only a startled Alex looking at me from his front desk. It wasn't really a desk, it was more a decorated corner with a small table and chair and then large canvases hanging on the walls for him to work on his own projects.

"Erm, right. Okay." He mumbled and scrambled to get what I asked. He looked a little taken aback by me and was watching me intently as he handed me my materials.

"You got a charcoal stick I can borrow?" Eye contact was intense from me due to all the emotions I was feeling. I'd tried bottling them all up and now I needed to let them out.

Alex didn't ask he just assisted me but watched me with a concerned look on his face. Holding out my hand, his fingers brushed mine as he placed the charcoal stick in my hand. Time seemed to seize then and the tears threatened to escape as I stopped. Clearing my throat and looking anywhere but at Alex's face, I charged over to the windows which were hidden by large glass room separators. After I found a spot that was most private, I balanced my canvas on a large Easel and adjusted it to my liking.

Click! Shoop!

A few eerily silent minutes passed, with me staring at my blank canvas, paralysed by all my feelings that rushed to overwhelm me.

"Aliya...?" Alex called out to me.

I swallowed my anxiety, and tried to sound as normal as possible, "Yeah?" My voice wavered and gave me away.

"The workshop doesn't start for another...twenty minutes or so." Alex called. I didn't hear him move from where I left him. I imagined him hovering in his corner not knowing whether to approach me or not.

I didn't speak. I just hoped he would say it was okay for me to be in here before the workshop. I bit my lip and kept still like it would help make that come true.

A few long minutes of silence passed, neither of us moved or made a sound. I was certain I was holding my breath.
"Let me stay, please." I breathed. I was looking back over my shoulder and staring through the opaque glass separator where I thought Alex could be standing. There was a faint silhouette that I could see through the glass that I thought to be the professor but It could have been something else.

"You can come whenever you want Aliya." He said softly, and with that I began sketching and he moving around and making his own noises.

My fingers curled tightly around the charcoal as I pressed it into my canvas, sketching out expressive lines, some with a heavier hand than others. As a flat edge formed on the charcoal, I tilted it to the side and used it to mark shade. Engrossed, I lost all concept of time. I felt as though only a few minutes had gone before students began trickling into the workshop room.
There didn't sound like many had turned up, which I was surprised at considering the amount of girls were ogling Alex on his first day. I think maybe the first week or two will be quieter as everyone is usually hungover all the time.

Hearing Alex address the room, I realised he had left me alone to get on with whatever I needed to do in the separated area. I'd filled my canvas with lines and hints of shade and now I wanted to add paint. One of the things I was best at doing was using mixed media techniques. I just felt the best way to portray any of my art was through multiple mediums.

Chaos creating chaos.

Hours went by, and my paintwork had slowed right down. I had transitioned from aggressive reckless painting to careful and intricate brush strokes. This canvas was the processing of my emotions that had all built up from that day.

Jamal. My friends. Me. The world.

I couldn't understand how all my shit just followed me around, like a little storm cloud above my head. It was the start of my second year, it had only been a couple of days, and already I was feeling like before.
This year was meant to be a fresh start of better choices and better feelings, so why did everything just feel the same?