Painting Flowers

To Mom, my art teachers, and to every Bully out there

Once Upon A Time there was a little girl wearing a bright pink shirt and dark blue jeans. She decided to show her friends the beautiful painting she was creating in art class for her mother. It was a flower with her two small palms as bright green leaves and her thumb as the center of the flower. Four fluorescent red petals surrounded the yellow center, and a long green stem was connected to the flower. She ran towards a group of girls, who were sitting on the opposite side, carrying her large painting over her head she approached the girls who were all wearing a navy blue skirt and a bright blue shirt. A huge smile was plastered on the little girl's small face as she looked back and forth between the girls and her beautiful painting. The girls simply stared at the painting as if not finding the right words. The little girls smile grew thinking their silence meant they liked it.

"That's an ugly shade of red" said one girl.

"Your hands are way too big for it to be leaves" another said.

"It looks like a monster with four heads" the last girl commented.

The little girls smile faltered and sadness crossed her eyes. The little girl looked at the painting, and then at the girls saying "Your right my mommy would just throw it to the trash". The little girl picked up her painting from the table and headed back towards her seat and overheard the girls giggling. She sat quietly and looked at the monstrous painting before her. The stem was too long, the petals uneven, the color too dark, her hand printed too large. After some time she walked towards her art teacher's desk, Mrs. Wagenspack, and asked to go to the restroom.

In the restroom the little girl looked at herself in the mirror. She looked at her two long black braids in front of her and her straight cut bangs barely reaching her eyebrows. Remembering the curly haired girls at the table she said "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me". Although she kept repeating the phrase; the little girl new deep down the it would hurt for a while.

When the little girl returned to class she folded the painting as if it was another piece of paper and placed it inside her dark blue backpack, preparing to leave class. As soon as school ended the little girl headed home s if there was a normal day. When she arrived to her house she hugged her mother hello and whispered, "Happy mother's day". The little girl then headed toward her room closing the door behind her. She placed the folded painting under her mattress knowing the crease of the folds would never disappear. The mother then called her daughter down for dinner. As they quietly ate the mother kept staring at the wall on the right of the living room. On that wall was every single painting created by her daughter for mother's day, on every single year from small drawings to large scale paintings; A series of bright flowers, sparkling hearts, and sometimes a mother and daughter together. Each painting was framed, kept clean, and placed neatly for those who entered the household to see, for her mother cherished each painting. The daughter simply continued to eat her dinner not noticing this. The mother looked at an empty frame that was reserved for this year's flower painting; a tear slowly escaping her sad eye.

THE END