Color My Heart

Chapter 1

Mackenzie clutched her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth on her bed. She had spent the last half hour crying silently to herself. Crying because she had nobody to talk to. Crying because she had to start at a new school today. Crying because she didn't know why she existed. Crying because of what she felt, or rather, what she didn't feel. What she couldn't feel. Her emotions were absent, and for some reason that made her cry hardest of all.

It wasn't like she was a stranger to these sob sessions; she had been having them almost every night for a while now, but today was especially bad. She just couldn't seem to stop. It was uncontrollable. After what felt like hours, the tears slowed and began to dry on her face. She forced herself to stand up and straighten herself out.

Fifteen minutes later, her hair was combed, her teeth were brushed, her face was washed, and she had changed into her signature clothing; a tank top and her paint splattered jeans. She looked herself up and down in the mirror. Her dark brown hair was presentable at least and there were small bags under her blue eyes but there wasn't anything she could do about that. She looked at her reflection and forced a smile onto her face. The same smile she knew she would have to fake for all the people she had to meet for orientation. The same smile she had been faking for the past several months.

Mackenzie sat back down on her bed and ran her fingers back and forth over her paint splattered jeans. Her mother had warned her that doing so would cause the material to wear out, but the jeans were worn out anyway. She had been wearing them since the seventh grade, and it was a mystery to her that they still fit three years later.

For what felt like the millionth time, she stared wistfully at the splotches of red, white, blue, yellow, and an assortment of other colors covering her jeans that reminded her of when she used to paint. As she slowly recalled every art project that had turned her pants into Jackson Pollock work, an unexplainable sense of melancholy washed over her, and she scratched at the paint that had long since dried.

"Mackenzie!" Her mother's voice called from downstairs. "Are you ready for you're tenth grade orientation?"

Mackenzie sighed. School seemed just as pointless as everything else did right about now. She had questioned the point of many things over the past year. Especially the point of life itself. Get up, survive the day, go back to sleep. That's what life was. Survive because of why? What's the point? Who knew? Certainly nobody alive now. Then there was high school. Home to some of the big ignoramuses of the world, each stupid and short sighted enough to believe that they were the center of the universe.

Nonetheless, she called back down,

"Yeah mom, I'll be there in a minute."

As much as she wished she could shut the world out, she knew that she couldn't. She had to do well in high school. Why? To go to a good college. Why? To get a good job. Why? To raise a family. Why? To keep the human race going. Why? She had no idea. No idea why people were so intent upon living their inevitably pointless lives.

Mackenzie forcibly heaved herself out of the comfort of her own bed. She threw a sweatshirt over her tank top, grabbed her sketchbook, and slowly walked downstairs, allowing her feet to drag behind her. Yawning, she walked through the living room and into the kitchen. Cereal was laid out on the counter and her mother stood at the sink washing her the used dishes. She looked like she was going to meet the president, the way she was dressed.

Her short hair was pulled back with a fancy black headband that exposed a face full of make up. She was clothed in black jeans, a red designer jacket, and was wearing the most expensive earrings she owned. After taking one look at Mackenzie, she frowned and crossed her arms.

"Mackenzie, can't you pick something nice to wear instead of a sweatshirt and jeans that you've had since the seventh grade?"

Mackenzie sat down at the kitchen counter and began eating her cereal, which was decidedly the most bland thing that she had ever tasted.

"I told you mom," she said, her fingers running along the hem of her jeans. "If I was back in LA I might have been more selective of my clothing, but instead I'm here, and I really don't give a crap."

Three months ago her family had made a big move from LA to New York. The few things that Mackenzie still cared about, friends, teachers, schools were left behind.

Mackenzie opened her sketchbook to continue the page she had been working on, and her mother audibly winced at the drawing of a misshapen skull, with a sickening goo coming out of it's eye.

"Honey I know you've been upset since we moved to New York,"

Mackenzie scoffed at her mothers ignorance. She'd been upset long before the move. It had just gotten worse since New York.

"But could you at least try to look at this positively? Think about it as starting a new chapter in your life."

"Sure," she replied just to humor her.

"Okay then let's go! It's going to be exciting right?"

Mackenzie shrugged her shoulders. "I guess."

Truth be told she couldn't remember the last time she felt excited about anything.

Her mother grabbed her purse and headed toward the front door. Reluctantly, Mackenzie shoved her sketchbook into the pockets of her paint splattered jeans and followed.

"Goodbye freedom," she muttered to nobody in particular.

And with that she closed the door behind her.