The Artist

6

Post your comments and thoughts about this story so far; please! This story is one of those really personal stories I've written and I want to know how y'all like it. Vote if you do like it! :D 

xoxo WritingIsEcstasy 

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Saturday comes too soon and the grey light flows through the french doors to achieve blinding me. I grunt and lazily slip out of bed. Though my bed is warm and being out exposed to the morning is making me shiver, I can hear Alexander yelling at me to get downstairs. I slump down the stairs and go into the kitchen. 

Alexander is leaning up against the white marble counter-tops. His head is resting against the burnt looking cabinets. "What the hell, Jack?" His eyes snap toward me and his whole face contours into a furious mess. "What the hell?!" 

Taken aback, I strip through my memories to think about what he's so mad at me for.. "Um.. what?" I ask, ready to take flight if he comes at me. 

"You know exactly what!" He bellows. "Are you out of your mind? Telling the whole American class that our mom died!" Alexander stalks toward me and before I can get out of reach, he grabs the front of my cotton shirt and drags me to place in front of him. "Now I've got to be careful who my real friends are! Because of your stupid mistake they all pity me!!!" His frame shakes and I cower away from his angry eyes. "This was supposed to be a new life and you go to ruin it on the first day!" 

It goes from being okay to not okay at all. But it happens so fast that I don't even know what hit me. Literally. A stinging sensation slowly seeps into my cheekbone, jaw, and cheek muscles. Wide eyed, I look up to Alexander, the culprit. His own eyes are wide as well and then I know it; He slapped me. Alexander slapped me... Tears well up and cling to my eyelashes as he slowly releases my shirt. 

"Jack..." His voice quivers. 

As soon as his hand is well enough away from me, I stumble backward into the table and lose my balance. The hardwood floor hurts my bum but I back away as fast as I can. Alexander's eyes are no longer warm to me, even though they are filled with remorse. 

"Jack, I-" 

"Where's dad?" I interrupt him. 

"He's asleep. Don't you dare tell him that I hit you!" His voice returns sharp and his eyes piercing. 

My bottom lip starts to tremor as my heart falls into my stomach. Holding onto the table for support, I quickly head back to my room. As soon as I'm in my room and behind the bedroom door, I let the tears flow freely. Putting my shoulders back and being silent as I sob, I head to mirror to find a surprise. The half, right side of my face is bruised. My cheekbone and jaw line have the worst of it as they are outlines with purple blotches, yellow is painted in, and then an olive toned bruise is showing  brightly against my cheek muscle. The stinging has resided into a sore feeling that I don't like. 

I walk over to the french doors, turn one of the silver handles, and push out so I can walk out onto the balcony. Leaning against the wooden railing, I breathe in the fresh morning air and stare out at the front of our house. My tears have started to dry and my thoughts meander around to different things. Staying far from my mother, Alexander, and my father, I start to think about the piano player. Why did Liam lie about who he was? Why did his vibe change so drastically? Who could it possibly be that he wouldn't want me to know? Maybe, just maybe, I could slip away to that meadow. Is it really there? I'd need to take things with me to make a trail with so I don't get lost... but what about Alexander and father? Is my little brother still downstairs? If so, would he let me go into the woods alone? If he watched me go, would he follow me? I couldn't have him following me if I'm looking for the piano player! ...then again, this is a crazy quest. Why on earth would there be a piano playing in the middle of a forest? I'm going insane... Of course, it wouldn't hurt to try, would it? I could always just come back on my marked trail if I don't find anything. Is it worth a try?