We Were Supernova

Grey Maroon Black White

Chris's POV

"And the whole point of this play is to be able to dictate the difference between. . ."

I roll my eyes as I stop paying attention to Mr. Burks. His class is the longest of the day. It's also painfully boring. I pull out my notebook and start randomly drawing lines on the paper.

I've been drawing since I was 5. When my father took Lori and I to some high class party and I spent most of the time admiring the thousand dollar works of art on the walls. It was inspiring. It was captivating. But the only artwork that I remember is the woman. 

The painting uses only 4 colors. Grey, maroon, black and white. Such dull colors that came together so beautifully. The woman was sitting on a wooden stool. She had a shiny tiara atop her head which let her beautiful brown hair cascade down her shoulders like a waterfall. Her left hand was balancing her weight on the stool and her right hand was touching her neck. Her left leg was outstretched but her foot was covered by a dark shadow.  

I remember thinking that she was the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, although the same shadow that was covering half of her left leg was covering half of her face. I thought she looked like an angel.

"More like an angel of darkness." Javier sips on his wine as he glances down at me and grins. I just look at him confused. He looks back at the painting.

"Think about it. The shadow covering half of her face represents the darkness that lurks inside her. The painting is in dark colors. Do you see any light colors?"

I shake my head. He chuckles. "Exactly. When you look at paintings you have to look past the artistry. Try to think about and understand what information the artist is trying to give you." He takes a small sip from his wine. "Art is always telling a story." He raises his glass and walks away.

I look back at the painting. She looks afraid. She looks sad. She looks tired. She looks like she's giving up. Dad grabs my hand and starts pulling me away.

"Dad is she crying?"

"What?"

"The woman. Is she crying?"

"It's not real, Christian. It's just a painting." He growls as me before he puts me and Lori in the car.

The bell rings, startling me. As I stand up to put my things in my backpack I realized that I drew a vaguely similar picture that I saw when I was little. Except the face was that of Cara.

I rush out of the class room and go to Cara's locker. She's not here. I pull out my phone and dial her number.

"Hello!" She screams through the phone then she starts laughing. I can hear the music blaring in the back ground. I feel myself getting angry.

"Where are you?"

"I am. Haha."

I take a deep breath trying not to yell at her. "Cara, tell me where you are. Now."

She growls at me then giggles. "Okay, daddy."

I cover my eyes and take a deep breath. I'm standing in the middle of the hallway when the bell rings letting everyone know they're now late for 5th period.

"Caravine."

"Christian." She purrs.

"I'm coming to get you. There's two ways that we can do this." I say as I push open the doors to the school and head towards my jeep. "You can either tell me where you are now, or I can come find you. I can assure you that the 1st option won't leave me as pissed as the 2nd option will."