Ashes // l.h.

5. waves

Halsey- Control

5. waves

It's wasn't up until college that I realized how slow time is. How much you can think of within one minute, sixty seconds. How quickly you can destroy and compose yourself within one minute, sixty seconds. How many scenarios you can make up in your head within one minute, sixty seconds.

I sit in class, listening to the professor talk, but not really. His words go in one ear and out the other. I'm counting down the seconds. Every minute that passes seems to make me want to stand up and yell; this is not how I want to spend my fucking life.

The only class I enjoy attending is Art, but that class is over and now, I must sit down in this class for another thirty minutes and pretend I have an idea of what the professor is talking about.

Memory.

I was sitting at the dinner table beside Noah. Tom was seated at the head of the table with Willow to the left of him. After saying a prayer, we began to eat, but something seemed off. There was tension in the air, a certain silence that seemed heavy. I couldn't understand what it was about, until Tom began to speak.

"I got a call yesterday..." He started and I felt Noah tense beside me. "From Mr. Jonson. He said he saw you climb down from your roof last night and get into a car that was parked at the corner."

His eyes set on Noah and Noah sighed heavily, placing his utensil down. "Dad-"

"Is that true?"

Noah's jaw clenched. "No."

"So Mr. Jonson is a liar? Is that what you're telling me? A man of the church, the pastor, has lied to me?"

Willow then spoke up. "Noah, tell your father the truth."

She always sided with him. It didn't matter if he was wrong, she would defend him to the very end.

Noah pursed his lips and rubbed the palm of his hands against his sweats. I could tell he was nervous, I could tell he knew what was to come. "Fine. I did go out last night."

"Where to?" Tom asked and when he didn't reply, he raised his voice. "Where to?"

"A party."

"Oh, the kind of parties you have been dragging your little sister to? Getting her drunk? Those kind of parties?" He snapped.

"He didn't drag me anywhere, I-" I began, coming to Noah's defense.

"Andrea," Tom said my name as a warning and when I felt Noah's knee nudge mine as a sign to shut up, I did. "What did you do at this party?"

Noah stood silent for a moment. "Sinful things." His tone of voice was sarcastic and full of mockery.

As soon as the words left his mouth, I knew what was coming. He did too. So did Willow.

Tom rose his hand and slapped Noah across the face so forcefully, he was knocked right into me.

°°°°°°°°°°

Black, white, gray, I'm lost. Black, white, gray, I don't know what to feel. Black, white, gray, I don't know who I am. Black, white, gray, I saw a boy kill himself. He went so mad, he put a gun up to his head. Black, white, gray, I didn't save him. I am so mad, I can still remember the way it felt when his blood splattered onto my skin.

I repeat these words to myself as I swipe my paintbrush across the canvas quickly and aggressively, releasing some of the frustration I hold inside. Sweat is forming on the back of my neck, Amy Winehouse is on full volume; her voice trailing through the earphones I wear. Some of the paint is dripping and it looks like tears. My art is crying.