Picture Frame

The Color Red

I stared at the canvas. I was Observing a variety of colors, comparing the ones that contrasted. I closed one eye, surveyed tints and shades critically. Suddenly, both eyes burst open. An idea! I closed my eyes, feeling mana course through my veins. Opening my eyes again, I was surrounded by the painted world that I created. This was my special power, a teleportation spell able to bring me into the canvas, into the painted world I had created. This was the spell I had composed so many years ago.

I had been six years old when my parents decided that I wasn't fit to take on the family business. I was the first born, yet I wasn't smart or good enough to follow in the footsteps of those pigs I had once called parents. They had neglected me, ignored me, even when I needed a shoulder to cry on. After a painful six years, they had given up on me -their hopeless child. I was left alone in a pub. My parents ditched me while I had been using the restroom. It was after that that I was taken in by the owner of the pub, a widow, Carol Lee Taylor. That woman helped me through the painful memories, gave me a new name, a new life. She would forever be my mother. It was after I was given another chance that I decided to do something with my life.

My pallet was filled with bright greens, colors that resembled that of our planet, Yuseta. Taking a brush-full of paint, I ran it through the air, leaving a streak of color behind it. That's right. Painting from the inside out. This was the spell I had fabricated when I was nineteen years old. Thanks to this spell I gained popularity and respect from the people of our town. I chewed my lip as I worked, peeling off the dead pieces of skin until my lip bled. As soon as I tasted the metallic liquid I immediately stopped. Blood - just thinking of it - made me shudder. I pressed the dirty cloth I had tucked in my pocket onto my lip to stop the blood. My eyes drifted down, looking at the paint covered cloth. It had six different shades of green on it, "Maybe I shouldn't put this near my mouth..." I thought. I shrugged off the thought. I heard a loud knock on the back door from outside the canvas. The loud and abrupt noise made me jump, sent goosebumps down my neck, arms and legs.

"Anna! Please!" the voice whimpered. Startled, I dropped my pallet and brush, closed my eyes, and opened them again in the real world. That voice could only be one person. The pathetic Imp I call my best friend. I met him back when I was seven. I had been playing outside, exploring the forest, when I came upon the boy crying. He was without a shirt, his back was bloody with fresh wounds from a whip. The sight of his destroyed back had made me sick, so I ran. Feeling bad, I went back, bringing with me an old blanket. After, I laid the blanket over his shoulders. I sat next to the sobbing boy, who resembled a sad puppy. That was the start of our friendship.

"Bax!" I exclaimed as I opened the door, looking down to see the imp crumpled up into a little ball, his back was fresh with wounds, again. Baxter had his dark umber hair covering part of his face, except for two small openings made by his curved horns, revealing his black eyes. His eyes reminded me of the vastness of space, his irises held a deep teal, like a galaxy surrounded by dark sclera. I covered my mouth, and closed my eyes trying not to throw up. "Get in here, and cover yourself up." I said strictly.

"Y..yes" he said to me between sniffles. Bax stood up limply and shuffled through the door. As soon as he stepped into my room, I stepped outside, closing the door behind me. I didn't want to see any more blood than I already had.

"Don't come back out until you're fully bandaged... And stop cleaning my room!" I barked at him, and the rummaging sound instantly stopped. Bax had a tendency to clean up other people's messes. I took some deep breaths, stepping away from the door as I did. It was slightly humid outside, I could feel condensation forming on my skin. After I had composed myself, Baxter exited my room, bandaged, and covered with an old shirt. As the door slowly closed, I could see an organized desk from the slowly-vanishing tableau. I sighed, "Can you not tidy my desk every time you walk into my room". The imp nods as he wipes his nose. "So, what is it this time?" I sighed, and offered him a sad smile.