Unspoken

The Silent Witness (Part 1)

A new, beautiful day unfolded as the warm sunlight spilled across Selena's neighborhood. The sky was painted in a shade of serene blue, dotted with fluffy white clouds. Birds chirped cheerfully from the trees, adding a melodic backdrop to the bustling morning.

Selena, beaming with excitement, rushed out of her house, her bag slung over her shoulder.

"Bye, Mom! I'll be back soon!" she called out over her shoulder. Her mom waved at her from the doorway, smiling.

Selena hopped onto her bicycle, her heart racing as she pedaled down the street. The crisp morning breeze brushed against her cheeks, and her long bangs fluttered around her glasses.

She couldn't contain her happiness—it wasn't just another day. Today was special. She was heading to her favorite place, the Mirador del Arte, a nearby art gallery she had always admired. And this time, it wasn't just for a visit—her own painting was displayed there!

As she approached the gallery, her breath hitched. The building stood like a beacon of creativity, its glass entrance reflecting the golden sunlight. The elegant white walls gave the space an almost magical glow, and sculptures adorned the front yard, their shadows dancing on the pavement.

Selena parked her bicycle and walked toward the entrance, taking a deep breath as the automatic doors slid open.

The cool, air-conditioned air enveloped her as she stepped inside. Her eyes widened, marveling at the clean, modern interior. Paintings of all sizes lined the pristine walls, each one telling a unique story. The sunlight streaming through the large windows illuminated the artwork, making the colors seem even more vibrant. Selena could feel her pulse quicken as she absorbed the atmosphere.

At the reception desk, a young woman with warm hazel eyes and a friendly smile was typing away on the computer. Selena approached hesitantly but with purpose. "Hi! Could you tell me where I can find the painting by Selena Alvarez?" she asked, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The receptionist paused and looked up, her smile growing wider. "Selena Alvarez? Oh, that name sounds familiar," she said, teasing slightly as she turned to her computer. After typing for a moment, she nodded and gestured toward another receptionist who took her place. "Come with me; I'll show you the way."

Selena followed her down a brightly lit corridor, her sneakers squeaking softly against the polished floor. She couldn't help but glance around at the walls, where more artworks were displayed—abstracts, portraits, and landscapes, each more stunning than the last. Her nerves bubbled up inside her chest as they turned a corner.

The receptionist glanced back at her and asked with a sly smile, "Is it your painting you're looking for?"

Selena blinked, caught off guard. "Uh... y-yeah! But how did you know?"

The receptionist chuckled. "Everyone here knows you, sweetie. You've been coming here so often, it's hard not to recognize you. Plus, you have that 'artist vibe.' It was just a lucky guess."

Selena felt her cheeks flush, a bashful smile spreading across her face. "Oh... well, yeah, I guess I've been dreaming of this for a while. And now... finally, it's happening!" Her voice brimmed with excitement.

As they continued walking, Selena's curiosity got the better of her. "By the way, what's your name, Miss?" she asked, tilting her head.

The receptionist smiled warmly. "Emma. Emma Jane."

"Well, Emma Jane," Selena said, her grin widening, "thank you for making my day even better. I'll never forget this moment."

Emma laughed softly. "It's my pleasure, Selena. I hope seeing your painting displayed here is everything you've dreamed of."

Selena nodded eagerly, her heart pounding as they neared the gallery section where her painting awaited. The anticipation made her steps lighter, and her smile brighter. This was her moment—a culmination of her hard work and passion.

Emma led Selena into the grand exhibition hall, her heels clicking softly on the polished marble floor. The hall was a stunning expanse of elegance, with high ceilings, sparkling chandeliers, and pristine white walls adorned with artwork. Selena's heart pounded as Emma stopped in front of a painting displayed prominently at eye level.

"There it is," Emma said with a smile, gesturing toward the piece. "Your painting."

Selena froze, her breath catching in her throat. Seeing her work displayed on the wall of such a prestigious art gallery felt surreal. The frame encasing her painting was simple yet elegant, accentuating the striking colors and intricate details of her work. Her hands trembled slightly as she clasped them together, her eyes scanning every brushstroke she had painstakingly made.

The painting depicted a woman with pale, ethereal skin, her face tilted upward as if searching for salvation. Her eyes, wide and haunting, seemed to scream silently, reflecting chaos and destruction—a crumbling city skyline in the background, with fiery skies and withering trees. But the most striking feature was her mouth. It was sealed shut with a heavy, rusted zipper, the edges of her lips reddened as though from years of futile attempts to speak. Around her neck was a broken clock, its hands frozen in time, while fragments of it floated into the void above. The entire composition was eerie and otherworldly, yet profoundly moving.

Emma stared at the painting in awe. "That's... incredible," she said softly, stepping closer. "The detail, the emotion—it's haunting but in the most beautiful way. Selena, what inspired you to create this?"

Selena's cheeks flushed with pride as she smiled. "Thank you, Emma," she said, her voice tinged with excitement. "I've always been fascinated by surrealism, especially Salvador Dalí and his painting The Persistence of Memory. You know, the one with the melting clocks? His work really opened my eyes to how art can express things beyond reality, like emotions or ideas that words can't describe."

Emma nodded, clearly intrigued. "I can see that influence here, especially with the clock. But this feels so personal. What's the story behind it?"

Selena took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the painting. "This piece is called The Silent Witness. It represents the powerlessness some people feel in the face of destruction and chaos. The woman's mouth is zipped shut because she's been silenced—whether by society, fear, or her own insecurities. She can see the world around her falling apart—the burning city, the dead trees—but she can't speak, can't act, can't warn anyone. The clock around her neck symbolizes time running out, but it's broken, just like her ability to intervene. She's trapped in this moment of helplessness, forced to watch everything crumble."

Emma was silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the painting. "That's... powerful," she said finally, her voice low with emotion. "It's not just beautiful; it's thought-provoking. You've captured something so raw here. I think anyone who looks at this will feel it in their soul."

Selena smiled shyly, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I just wanted to express something I've felt... that so many people feel, you know? That frustration of wanting to make a difference but feeling like you can't."

Emma nodded, still staring at the painting. "You've done more than that. You've created something unforgettable. You should be so proud of yourself."

Selena's heart swelled with pride and gratitude. For the first time, she felt like her art had truly reached someone. Standing there, basking in Emma's words and the sight of her painting hanging in the gallery, Selena realized this was just the beginning.