Skitch

-One- The Dream

   My dream to be an artist started when I was 7 years old. I had always loved the idea, but for some reason my little brain just could not wrap around the fact that people were the hands behind the amazing creations we see all over the world. I figured it was impossible for someone to be that talented, but when my dad took me to an art show where a lady was doing live artwork right there infront of us, my old dreams to become the next Disney princess were instantly replaced with a new and improved one. My first artwork, the one that started it all, was the sketch of my mother. My mother loved me, and would be there for me no matter what I wanted to do, she just didn't really know anything about art, unless u count stick figures and those Jesus fish you drew as a kid. She had red hair like mine and green eyes, which I sadly didn't inherit from her. As a kid, I always thought she looked like Ariel from the little mermaid, so that's how I drew her. I drew her bright, fall leaf color hair and her emerald eyes, with a long green tail. My mother was amazed and proud. I told her it was her but she kept saying, "awwww honey I had no idea you liked Ariel that much!". We showed my dad the picture as soon as he got home, he was a little skeptical of my so called talent, but I guess my mom convinced, or payed, him to go along with it. "Wow skitch I didn't know you could sketch" my dad said as he laughed "skit, I ment" he said and patted me on the head. "Skitch" my mom chuckled "sketch and skit combined", Thus the creation of the famous nickname we see today. My mother insisted I send it to a art competition, and me, being a 7 year old girl with a dream, sent it in as soon as possible. Now, you probably thought that I won and was offered a scholarship at seven years old, well, I'm sorry to say,

That's not what happened.

My "beautiful" picture of my mother/Ariel that was just so incredible, didn't even place. I cried for 3 days straight, nor would I talk to my mother because I was mad at her for lying to me and saying it was good, when in reality, my artwork looked like a three year old drew it in art class with some pencils that needed some serious sharpening. Of course I didn't give up, after all it was only one mishap, and I was 100% sure that they forgot to judge my drawing anyway.
After my mental breakdown, my mother decided to put me into some much needed art classes, and boy was I ready. My confidence was much higher then it should of been, because I thought I would I could just walk in and steal the show, but no, that's not what I would do.
Our first job was to draw yourself, which should of been easy considering you see yourself every single day all the time, but this job was much harder then expected for my untrained and clumsy pencil-holding hands. After months of classes I began to get better, and I only got more excited to become an artist. Most kids wanted to be teachers and astronauts and singers and vets, deffinetly can't forget about vets, everyone and their grandmother wanted to be a vet, but I stuck my nose up and told my friends about my super cool future plans.
"I'm gonna be a famous artist like Picasso and Vincent and all those other artist people, you just watch" I would tell them.
Damn, I wish I still had that same confidence today.

My eyes flutter open to the picture I drew from my favorite T.V show, stranger things. I put this on my ceiling right above my bed so maybe I would be happy when I woke up, although the thought was nice, it didn't work. I growl as I throw my blankets off and trudge over to my bathroom and begin all my morning necessities. It may be the summer, and it may be 11:00 pm, but I am NOT a morning person. By the time I get downstairs to eat "breakfast" my mom and dad have both left for work, but no matter how much I dream, my obnoxious, nuisance of a brother comes up behind me and screams "BOO". I nearly jump out of my purple owl pajama pants, but not before I turn around and knock him on the head with the palm of my hand.
"Why are you like this Leo" I tell him with a sigh.
"Well, skittles, ur just easy to scare" he says.
I cringe at the stupid nickname, skittles, my list of nicknames is longer then the list of Taylor Swifts ex boyfriends. Skittles, skitty kitty, and the most famous, skitch and so many more.  I continue to hunt for the box of Honey Nut Cheerios, the cereal that continues to be my favorite, even over all those sugary cereals everyone likes, I continue to stick with that bee and his bomb ass Cheerios. I finally found the box at the back of the cupboard, right behind the watermelon pop tarts that my brother is obsessed with, though I personally think they threw up in a box and slapped a label on it.