—Age 8.
I'm in my backyard.
Its where I paint and get away from all the yelling in my house.
Mommy and daddy argue a lot.
Especially at night.
I remember all the mean word they call each other and I start to cry.
Mommy didn't like it when I cry. She would tell me, "Big girls don't cry, we smile through the pain." Then smile her biggest smile ever.
"Why am I like this?" I ask myself as I paint the skies gray.
...
It's getting dark. Mommy calls me inside and tells me she had ran a bath for me.
I get into the water and smile as the paint melt off my body then get mixed up with each other.
It turns into a Blue-black. That colors reminds me of the world.
Because everything is a blue-black feeling.
