ultraviolet

two

ART SCHOOL & "NOONA?"

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AFTER CLEANING UP THE kitchen, I went straight back to my room in order to prepare for my first day at a new school. Mother hadn't specified what the school's name was, but she did tell me it's the closest school near our apartment complex, only a block away, which shouldn't be a problem for her since she doesn't have to drive me there.

I opened the door to my tidy, but barren, bedroom. It was an average size room–15 ft long, 10 wide–it's bigger than the one back in Gwangju, and it has a nice view of downtown Seoul. I made my way towards my window, sitting on the edge of my white sheeted bed and staring down at the street below. A bakery shop sat across the street, along with a neighboring pizza place named Kim's on it's right and dry cleaner's to it's left. Autumn trees made a line in the grass nearest to the street facing the pavement in front of the complex, blowing steadily in the agile breeze, and one by one, orange, brown, and red leaves began tearing at the branches, flying away with the wind.

I had wanted to draw this scene right before my eyes with my new set of matte pencils and sketchbook I bought right before the move, but as though I'm short on time, I decided to leave the window and finally get dressed for school.

Art to me is not only paintings and colorings and drawings that were supposed to look nice. They were pieces of memories and feeling put into them, and artists put time and effort into making others' eyes experience what he or she had felt whilst working on such piece. Art is meant to stir up feelings inside of you, to grab the pupils of those who choose to inhale the beauty of it. And I am one of those who's already felt this sensation.

As a young child, when mother and father argued downstairs in our household back in Gwangju, I would be coloring while watching cartoons on TV in my room upstairs, minding my own business. I did my best to block out the yelling and screaming from behind my door, and it worked to a certain point where I could only hear murmurs and blurred out words. I only focused on what I found to be the best remedy for ignoring all the hatred beyond my bedroom door, which was drawing and art. It was like my get-away from all the madness.

Art had become a favorite joy in my life. Father took me to art museums and bought me paint sets and drawing supplies for me to create masterpieces with. Hell, I was so into art that the walls in my bedroom were splashed abstract and my ceiling was a starry night.

Now, here I am in a new enviroment. The walls and ceiling are a blank canvas, waiting for the artist to unveil a spectacular work onto it.

God, I'm rambling in my head again.

Stop procrastinating, (First Name), you've got school today..

I slapped the sides of my head with my hands, taking me out of my zone, and opened the door to my walk-in-closet. It was a small, rectangular closet with two racks of hung clothes facing eachother, filled with hues of blues, blacks, reds, and maroons, which were my recent favorite colours. In the far back, pairs of neatly organized shoes sit in a three by five unit shelf, consisting mostly of converse and vans. Oh, what a hipster I am.

I filed through my clothes as if I were buying them at a thrift shop, checking out each individual piece of clothing. Soon enough I finally realize that it's not , and I take notice of my ugly-ass uniform hanging in the back of my closet.

I ripped off my current sleepwear–a black, graphic t-shirt designed with a square of multicolored splashed paint in the middle and a pair of grey sweats–and I slipped into my favorite matching undergarnments. I fit into my white button up shirt and into the navy skirt, which ended a few inches above my knee. And after I affixed the sleek navy tie around my neck, I slackly threw on the coal blazer–which had a silver emblem on the right breast pocket with the school's initials SHSGT–and I pulled on a pair of 3/4 crew black socks.

I headed into the bathroom-the adjacent door to my left, and immediately flipped the switch, turning on the bulbs strung around the border full rectangular mirror–the only source of light in this bathroom. It was still dull, but only petitely. The white, porcelain throne was fixed at the end of the cream colored marbled countertop, which held two sinks and a lower, polished hardwood cabinet under each one. The stone walled shower, well.. It was gated with glass, so my brain is currently taking note that I need to lock the bathroom door first before showering.

Looking at myself in the mirror, my (eye color) eyes filled with orbs of light from the bulbs, I ran my hands through my hair, uncertain about how my (hair color) locks should be styled. I grabbed a few hairties and bobby pins from the top drawer of the small plastic cabinet sitting on the counter on my left against the wall. I chewed on my lower lip as I carelessly snatched my hair in my hands. I constructed a messy updo atop my head, wrapping it with bands and binding it with pins. As I was about to leave the bathroom, I made the final adjustment of sweeping my messy bangs as it loosely curtained to frame the left side of my face.

Before I left the place, I had sat down at the foot of the front door and laced on my cream ankle cut converse. My ratchet, worn-down messenger bag draped heavily over my shoulder, and at long last, I was out the door.

I took a step into the hallway and shut the front door behind me, hearing the clack of the lock as it closed. The thematic gold corridor was dim, though it gave a nice cozy ambience. Glass lanterns hung from the ceiling with a firm, clear cord, emitting a faint, ivory light. They followed eachother in a line from one end of the hall towards the other. Suddenly, I notice the same clack sound coming from the apartment next to mine, and a boy wearing the same uniform as me walks past me with fast feet.

"Yah! Wait!" I yelled as I trailed after him, hoping that he would let me walk with him to school.

The boy stopped himself unstably about two doors down from where I stood, fumbling on his two feet. He hesitantly rotated his head around to me, and I could make out his white eyes under the caliginous lambent as they widened in surprise.

"Noona," he muttered, his voice low and choked up.

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A/N: Well, I hope you enjoyed this chapter!

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I love you and have an amazing day!

~ Kanzaki-chan ☆～（ゝ。∂）