The Heart's Canvas (bloody painter X reader)

Chapter One

I sat before the painting I had just completed. Ms. Talia, my art teacher, softly placed her hand on my left shoulder. She gave my painting a gentle smile.
"My, my. You gave me more than just a flower. A cemetery, full moon, lone tree, and a small cabin? So beautiful!," she gave a small chuckle, "Just like with everything else you paint, I am highly pleased. I know you will most definitely be going places, {y/n}. Keep up the good work." Ms. Talia kept her smile as she patted my shoulder. She began to walk around the room to look at my peers' works. I kept silent, still staring at my painting.
I gave a sigh, hearing the bell ring. Art was always the last period of the day. I never really wanted to leave. I packed up my books and walked out into the hallway to put my books in my locker. After I finished, I strolled outside the school. People didn't really speak to me, and I didn't speak to anyone unless I was spoken to. I was the "loner type" in school, if that's a thing. I'm pretty sure they talked about me, but I couldn't care less, honestly. It's only high school. I won't meet them in the future. Hopefully. Not wanting to go home yet, I made my way to the park. I went there every time I wanted to relax and get a break from everything. I sat on the cool rubber seat. My small fingers wrapped around the numbingly cold chains. I began to swing, rocking my body back and forth. I closed my eyes and pretended as if I were flying. The icy winter air filled my lungs with a light sting, soon to be let out, giving my lungs a slight feeling of warmth. I sniffled, my red nose now beginning to run. I gave a soft giggle. I felt like a child again. Memories flooded into my head. They were soon cut off by a loud honk.
I fell out of the swing and rolled onto the ground with a loud cry. I checked my ankle and found it sprained. I snapped my head up just in time to see the head of a large truck before it collided with my body. Time seemed to slow. The loud crunch of my own bones breaking filled my ears as I soon could feel nothing. I was wavering back and forth between consciousness and unconsciousness. I heard screams and cries from what sounded like nearby passers. I listened to sirens, shuffling, and calmed conversations. Not long after I finally blacked out, I woke. My eyes fluttered open and soon rested upon the ceiling. I began to look around, but soon winced, feeling an intense amount of pain.
The patient next to me was running her hands through my hair. She was covered from head to toe in blood, but I didn't fear her. I looked to her face. Short brown curls and hazel eyes that carried a bright red tint. I opened my mouth to speak.
"Shh.." She placed a pale slender finger over my lips.
"Please, do not speak. Only listen." She gave a smile.
"You and I, are one. We will share this body of yours." She crawled onto the bed and hovered over me. She placed kisses upon my neck.
"I will take very good care of you, us, whether you agree or not. It's already done."
"Wh-what are you?" I choked out, my throat dry and sore.
"Hmhmhm~. I am Zurielle. A demon. A friend. A guardian."
Questions swirled around my head. She grew sharp red and black claws and jabbed them into my chest. I let out a raspy scream as she pulled out my heart.
"This here. This is my heart. Without it, you'd die. We'd die."
She smiled, her teeth soon sharpening.
"Be a good host~."

I woke, sitting upright and soon regretting doing so. I howled in pain. The doctor who was talking to my parent(s) rushed to my side. He lay me back gently.
"Please, be careful. You just got out of surgery. You are so lucky to be alive." He sighed and gave my head a light pat. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I tried once more and got the same result.
He went on, "You had a heart transplant. The woman who ran you over died. Her heart was in great condition, and you were in need of it to survive. Sadly, your vocal cords have been fractured and need time to heal. You won't be able to speak for a while." I gave a slow nod. I didn't care that much about not being able to speak. I barely spoke anyway. I soon recalled the dream. Is the heart transplant what Zurielle was talking about? I shook away the thought. That was only a dream. It wasn't real. I slowly sat back up, being mindful of my healing wounds.
"I get the feeling you want to go home," the doctor chuckled.
"Call me if there are any problems," he directed to my parent(s). {He/She/They} nodded before helping me out of the hospital bed. My parent(s) knew how much I hated hospitals. Once in the car, we drove home. It wasn't far from the hospital, so the drive wasn't long.
I trudged myself into the house, with the help of my parent(s) of course. {He/She/They} helped me into bed and tucked me in before leaving me alone in my dark room. I gave a sigh, letting my heavy eyelids close. I tried to resist sleep, but sleep was about to win. I carefully found a comfortable position to sleep in. Just as my eyes were closing, I noticed a shadow move from my window to my desk. I was too exhausted to care. I brushed it off as my mind playing tricks on me like it had earlier with that "Zurielle" thing. It was pretty real, though.. I shook the thought away once again. It was too much to think about at the time, so I let my mind wonder onto other things as I slowly drifted to sleep.