It was a cold night. Stars scattered the sky like Satin Multi-Surface Paint colour #FFFFFF was splattered on a canvas coloured #000C15, though light strokes of #FF9999 and #FF0000 and #FFFF33 filled the ever lit sky, blessed by the #FF6633 sun's wonderful gift of light. I was wearing a hoodie I wore almost everyday, a misty #CC99FF, one of my favorite colours, and #330066 jeans that halted just above my ankles, and made my butt look hella nice. I walked through my yard and approached the #FFFF33 door, which defiantly stood out from the high walls of my house, which was a calm #666699, but with the #FFFFFF door frame, it seemed to balance the colours, and toned it out well. I can defiantly tell you you'd find my house easily, it's not often you see a door painted in a #FFFF33, but you always need the right palette to pull it off. I stepped in to the dark room, and scanned the #000000 shadows with difficulty. Something wasn't right. I reached for the light switch, and when I switched it on, what I saw had scarred me for life.
My sketch book lay on the floor, water tainted bright pastel palettes surrounding it, sketchbook soaked and flimsy. I felt my heard race faster, I immediately took off my soon to be stained #CC99FF jacket and pressed it onto my sketchbook, praying I could still save it.
But I failed.
"FUCK." Was the only word I can manage to make out before dying onto the floor.
More art horror stories soon.
