Short Stories Galore

Surrealism (Thriller)

The brush dipped and curved across the blank canvas, giving life to something that was once empty. Hayley's eyes travelled with the movement, as if her hands had a mind of its own. The creation of a new world was something that she relished in. It was a way for her to escape the people who didn't understand her and a psychologist who didn't really care. Paint was the only thing in the entire universe that allowed her to be herself.

The image was starting to take shape now; a setting sun and a barren Australia desert. Hayley could feel the heat rising from the sand and the miniscule insects running over her feet. Next came a robotic figure with moving blades for arms and clunky wheels for legs. She could imagine the wind blowing hot sand into the evil robot's hinges and watching as it angrily groaned, trying desperately to move.

Hayley painted herself further along in the picture, a terrified expression on her face and frozen in a running position. The robot was after her because in this world, she had done something terrible. She imagined what it would be like, how the fear would feel coursing through her veins and how wildly her heart would be beating, keeping her alive.

It would still be better than reality.

Hayley decided that the painting was too dull for her liking and so she started to sketch the outline of a fire-breathing dragon, swooping low in the orange sky. She could see it now, the dragon's black scales glinting in the dying sun, its mouth open in a menacing snarl, baring its sharp teeth. In this world, Hayley would shriek and scramble faster across the burning sand. However, she would have nothing to fear because this beast was on her side. With a whooshing breath, the winged creature let forth a column of fire, scorching the metal robot and destroying it with ease.

A grin stretched painfully over Hayley's face at this turn of events. Oh yes, she thought. I would rule on the back of this dragon!

Hayley was just about to start painting exactly that, when she heard footsteps approaching behind her. She had to supress a groan of annoyance. Her mother knew not to disturb her during this time but she never listened.

To her surprise, she heard a male whistle pierce the room. Hayley carefully put her utensils down and turned, even more shocked to find her father standing there. A father she barely saw anymore. He was merely a wisp in the tumultuous wind of her life.

"They are amazing, Hayley."

He flashed her a too white grin and ruffled her red hair which furthered her annoyance. "Are you not going to speak to your 'ole dad?"

"What are you doing here?" slipped past her lips.

His smile dropped slightly. "To see you, of course."

"Where's mum?" Hayley asked.

"In the kitchen."

"So she knows that you're here?"

The man sat down next to her on the checkered carpet and Hayley looked away, not bearing to see his face.

"Your mother's concerned, Hayley and frankly, so am I."

"Concerned about what? You're never here!" she exploded, clenching her fists. Her nails made crescent shapes in her skin.

"I know, and I'm sorry about that but Hayley, you can't spend your whole life sitting behind this easel."

Hayley rounded on him, fire dancing in her eyes. "You are not allowed to take this from me. Painting is the last thing on Earth left that keeps me sane. Without it, the world would be unbearable. It feeds me dad but I don't expect you to understand."

Silence encompassed the room after that. He could find nothing to say and she knew a scream would rip its way out of her chest if she opened her mouth. So they sat there.

"I do understand, Hayley," he said finally. "I feel the same way about music. We all need a little something to help us escape because sometimes, life is hard. But I don't want you to get lost in your paintings. I don't want you to run away in your mind and never come back. We need you here, with us."

Hayley looked up at her father.

"I'm-"

Before she could finish, an inexplicable feeling of dread washed over her. It was as if somebody was trying to pull her away from a small piece of heaven. The room around her suddenly started to shake, the frames on the walls falling to the floor with loud CRASHES and a pot plant in the kitchen cracked harshly against the tiles. Her entire world was spinning and her father was still staring at her with so much emotion in his eyes and she couldn't make head nor tail of her reality. Hayley's vision was starting to dim but she could hear somebody urgently calling her name...

"HAYLEY!"

Hayley's eyes shot open, greeting a pale white ceiling. A hand hovered over her, some kind of pill bottle in its grasp. Hayley turned her head and saw a white nurse connected to the hand, a sickening smile on her face.

"Time for your medicine, sweetie."

Panic gripped Hayley's throat and she tried to sit up, only to discover that she was strapped down to the bed. She started to thrash around as the realisation that she was still stuck in this goddamn place overwhelmed her. Her father wasn't consoling her and she could no longer paint.

Hayley screamed.