Artist

Full story

Eight-year-old, Grace once had friends that lived with her. One day her friends left and never returned. One of her mother's, Ana, said "Lily and Layla found new families to live with just like you will one day too. Be patient Grace." Her mother gave her a kiss on the cheek. After that mother left she decided to tell some of the kids in the house to get close to Grace because "She had needed a friend". None of the kids did as their mother asked, so the poor 8 year old stayed alone.

After a while, being alone wasn't so bad. But later this never ending loneliness began to bore her. 8 years had gone by and Grace felt okay. She was healthy, but she felt as if something were missing, she didn't know whether she was missing her family, or her aptitude. Being 16 now made her think about her life at the orphanage, and how she sincerely thought they were her family. She felt that she had let life take its course for so long and she did nothing her way.

One day Grace was walking back to the orphanage from work and she stopped at the park to enjoy the grey city of Seattle. She sat on an old rusty bench surrounded by trees and looked up at the sky which appeared to have been covered with a thick blanket of fog. When she looked down she had realized that it had been slightly chilly, so she wrapped herself in her arms. Grace smelled the rich warm coffee from the shop directly in front of the park. She felt that her life had been great, even if she felt alone, But she still longed something in her life that would make her feel alive.

As Grace continued walking down the main street in the chilly fall day she continued to thinking about something that would complete her. She was quickly washed away from her thoughts as she was pushed by a little boy holding a bright red balloon looking to buy a hotdog from the corner on the perpendicular downtown streets. Quickly trying to get out of the crowded mess, Grace runs out of the way.

After Grace realizes that the coast is clear, she begins to walk at her previous pace. It isn't long before Grace catches the eye of this breath takingly beautiful guy. Everything stops as he smiles at her. She quickly looks away because she knew that he would notice the bright pink blush showing from her pale blue undertoned face. She begins to speed up her pace as she foolishly eludes herself of what had just happened.

Or so she thought.

He had caught up to her and this is exactly what she didn't want.

"Hey." he said.

She took a while to examine him before she responded. He was tall and pale, he had long messy hair that roughly brushed his shoulders. He had blackboard colored eyes and a scar above his left eyebrow.

"He's a street kid." Grace thought. "and he's gorgeous."

"Hey." she replied.

"My name is Axel, I've seen you walking around here lately, and I'm guessing it's for work, but since this is the city and everything is around here I figured I'd bump into you some other less creepy 'rapist' way, but I didn't so I'm guessing you don't get out much?"

"Well, not really. I live in the orphanage.."

She stopped there because she obviously wasn't going to say she didn't have any friends, but clearly he could tell.

"Well orphan girl I wa-"

"Grace."

"Grace, I was wondering if you wanted to hang out with some of my friends and I."

He said her name so perfectly it was like that was the word he was meant to say all his life.

"Oh shut up Grace." She thought to herself.

"Sure" she said nervously.

"Nice. Well you should head home it's getting dark. Meet us at the park tomorrow, and chill, other girls will be there." He smiled.

He knew that she had been a little scared of the random approach.

Without another word she walked away.

Grace was now home in her bunk, she was happy that today wasn't dish duty day for her, because quite frankly, cleaning up 25 plates, cups, and silverware wasn't her thing when dinner was lasagna. She laid in her bunk reading Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children under her blanket as she shook her head.

"Unbelievable."

Half an hour later she decides to put the book down and go to bed, because tomorrow, she would have to make friends.

*At the park*

Axel introduced Grace to all of his friends at the park. They all sat and and talked about who they were and what they liked. They talked about favorite foods and favorite colors, which brought out a more broad topic of conversation, paint.

They talked about all these colors and brushes and styles of art. They called themselves artists. Grace was confused on why they were so obsessed and addicted with painting and drawing and building because it is something that a child knew to do. However, whatever it was, whatever the reason of their addiction was, she wanted to be part of. It could be what she was looking for in life.

Grace told Axel that she wanted to become a painter, and his smile brightened up.

Months had gone by and Grace had become an artist. She had lost sleep, lost her job, and almost never showed up to the orphanage because all she wanted to do was paint. Grace had become addicted to art. She tried to use so many other kinds and textures of it, she tried clay, markers, crayons, but always came back to paint. She owned so many sharp brushes and she loved to smell the fumes of the paint so much that she had become ill. But Grace could never quit. She would often find herself painting for no apparent reason. Axel had become ill too because he tried this form of art that was too powerful for him to accomplish and he went a little mad. Grace never left his side. She would cry some nights because she remembered how normal her life had seemed and she missed that, but quitting wasn't an option. It was impossible.

Grace felt awful that she had hurt all the people who loved her, and didn't realize that they struggled because of her addiction also.

One day, Grace came home to the orphanage, but at this point she couldn't hold in the temptation to paint, so she grabbed her bag from under the bunk and ran into the restroom. She had been in there for quite some time and it was time for bed so one of the mothers ran into the bathroom. It was mother Ana. She had been Grace's favorite mother as a child. Ana ran near the sink as she called for someone to call the paramedics. She had found a thin delicate brush on the ground and Grace next to it with paint down her arms. This was her final canvas.

"What have you done Grace!" Ana screamed in terror.

"I couldn't stop painting and I did too much." Grace said calmly.

"You need help!"

"Don't bother Ana! You can never help me."

"I am an artist."

Ana cried in her arms as she heard the noises of the ambulance show up a second too late, Because now all they had to do was clean up the paint.