Bellman Tower

Chapter 3

Clutching my sketchbook in my hand, I make my way up to the bedroom I was assigned. I open the sketchbook, gently applying pressure on the paper. The hours tick by and I'm totally absorbed, thinking of nothing but the drawing and to get it finished. I haven't drawn since The Accident, so I've forgotten the peace and the sense of belonging it brings me. I'm no longer at war with the world, I'm just another normal girl doing something she loves. When I finally finish and sit up properly, rubbing the solid cramp in my neck, my eyes widen as I realise what I've drawn.

It's Mom and Dad... their last attempt at unity. I let the sketchbook rest on the bed and stand up. The pencil rolls off the bed but I don't notice; I'm too busy staring at the picture and wondering why I didn't realise what I was sketching before now. I wipe a tear away and then flip the sketchbook closed, unable to set eyes upon the drawing anymore. I knew it was a bad idea to touch a sketchpad.

Aunt walks in and spots the closed sketchbook, "Hey, can I see that?"

"No!" I blurt but she's already opened it.

The smile slowly evaporates from her face and she looks up eventually from the painting, "The accident?"

"I didn't notice what I was drawing. I was too absorbed in it. I didn't know what I was drawing until I saw it myself. It was a mistake; I should never have picked a pencil up." I snatch the sketchbook away.

Aunt puts her hand on my shoulder in a supportive manner, "It's okay. We all have our own ways of dealing with death. These drawings are your personal remedies. If you ever want to talk, remember I am here for you." She turns on her heel and leaves. I look down at the drawing in my hand and sigh. Ready to turn in for the night, I change and immediately surrender myself to the nightmare that is sure to come...

"Come down for breakfast, please, Nikki." Aunt says from outside my door. I stand up from the window seat I've taken to sitting at every morning this past week. I wrench open the door and thud down the stairs, slouching at my seat like I usually do. I forcefully make myself eat the omelette put in front of me and then retire to the living room to sit, staring into space silently, just the way I like it. At twelve thirty pm, Shaun walks in, dressed in a casual button down shirt and jeans. I roll my eyes and purposefully turn away from him.

Aunt clears her throat, "Off you go, Nikki."

"'I'd rather stay home today, Aunt." I reply stonily, looking down at my un-manicured nails.

"I'd rather you didn't. It's your first day of school next week and you need supplies. Now off you go." Aunt has started to be more firm with me nowadays, as Lisa has advised to her on her last visit.

Thanks a bunch, Lisa.

I sigh and get up, pulling my jacket on. Shaun leads the way on to the truck and I dump myself in the passenger seat, staring passively out of the window. "Why don't you like me?" Shaun asks on impulse.

I turn to look at him, frowning, "What?"

"You heard me." He repeats.

I snort and look out of the window so he doesn't see the smug look on my face, "It's not that I don't like you. I don't like people in general. The reason being they don't understand me any more, they don't know who I am and I don't want to deal with that."

"If you tell them who you are, maybe they will know who you are. People in this village aren't psychic, Nikki." Shaun points out.

"Yeah, but, if they really want to know, they'll try to figure it out themselves. I won't have to tell them." I clasp my hands together, presuming this is the end of the conversation.