Writing Exercises

Longing

Sorry for disappearing, guys! I've been trying to use Camp NaNoWriMo's July 2015 session as a pump for my writing but in-between work and trying to exercise I just never actually sit down to write. To compensate for putting more effort into the WattyWarriors page then my own page, here's another fic that I COMPLETELY forgot that I wrote. I must have been in a sad mood that day, because it's a beautiful picture that once more ended up rather depressing.... Anyway, I hope you enjoy and I promise more updates soon!

~Blaze

Longing

What a beautiful day, she mused. Look at the bright, sunny sky, the long expanses of grass colored in thousands of different shades of green. Look at that long, flowing stream with little frogs and tadpoles. Smell the beautiful flowers with their multicolored hues and sizes. Feel the soft grass under your feet, the wind blowing through your hair...

The little girl sighed, turning the violin around once more. It was a beautiful piece of artwork done by her mother, and she knew that she wasn't supposed to look at it, but she couldn't help herself. It was masterfully done, the colors blended smoothly and the painting looked alive, as though you were truly lying in that field and watching the beautiful nature around you. She couldn't help but stare in awe and no small amount of jealousy, wondering why she didn't (couldn't?) paint like that, and why she could never see such a wonderful scene as that.

For as long as she could remember she had been stuck inside her family's townhouse, a large, expensive building deep within the city. It overlooked the rest of the city, standing tall and proud above everything else and casting it's shadow upon everything. The little girl spent hours gazing out the window and at the city and beyond in hopes of seeing something new, something that was colorful and natural and not the thousands of dull brown and gray shades that made up the city in which she lived.

The child longed for something more. Any trips outside of the city had occurred so long ago that she could not remember. She felt constricted, tired of the same boring, lackluster view, and longed for the free, fresh expanse of nature.

If only she could convince her busy parents to take a day to drive out to the surrounding countryside. If only they were willing to spend more time with her, to distract her from the horrible gray for that fleeting moment that she longed for.

She jumped as she heard noise from outside of the room. The little girl quickly put the violin back on it's stand, taking one last long glance in hopes of ingraining its beauty in her mind. Then she settled in her usual seat by the windowsill and took to staring into the bright yet gray sky.

"Darling?" Her mother's soft voice came from behind her, warm but trembling. The girl stood, walking into her mother's embrace. She felt her mother grasp her tightly, arms wrapping around her and face buried into her hair. it was not enough to conceal her sob, and the little girl could only feel her heart sink as she allowed her mother to take the comfort and relief that she desired.

It seemed that today, like so many other days, was not the right one to ask for any favors. The little girl knew that her mother would soon ask her to leave, locking herself with another canvas and her paint in hopes of distracting herself once more. To maybe paint another masterpiece to keep them afloat for one more month.

Once either parent got into this mood, it was a challenge to even speak to them.

"Darling, did you touch my painting?" The girl stilled in the embrace, muscles tensing and body becoming alert.

"Yes mother." She replied.

"Do you like it?" The older woman asked. Her voice belied no emotion. The little girl could do nothing but nod.

"Can you take me to the place where you painted that?" She asked. Her mother sighed apologetically, and the girl felt her heart sink once more.

"Someday soon I will take you there. I promise you that. Just not today." No, the little girl mused. It was never today.