The Paintbrush

There's strength in metal

I keep it with me 24/7 now. This art tool has become a part of me and I love walking in everyday to add another stroke on my board. Apparently she said that it will reveal some sort of secret that I didn't even know I was hiding. Somehow I think that this one single paintbrush, will shape my future and help me discover new areas that I have never been before. School was the same, nothing felt different but knowing that I was capable of using this magical item right here, 2 cm away from me, I knew that maybe I can make a difference, if not in my school, maybe in my life.
"Oh look, Griggy finally found a mirror to look at," the boys laughed. But this time it didn't hurt. This time I felt protected like I was capable of beating them. I knew right now wouldn't be the best time but soon, I will get my revenge. "Awww are you gonna cry?"
Truth was that I wasn't. Crying was a symbol of weakness when it actually is your body releasing uncontainable stress. Crying made me feel weaker. It made me feel as if I wasn't strong enough to face situations on my own. I hated crying. There's only been 2 people that have seen me cry in my life; the therapist and my ex best friend Eugenia. She hangs around with that group of girls I wish I was a part of. She left me because she thought I was too pathetic and weak for her. She thought that if she was open with me, I had to do the same whether I was comfortable or not. This whole situation went to our parents and I didn't like it. I didn't want other people having to waste time on me because I already knew that I would be blamed for it. Suddenly I realised that I was staring at her from across the room, and she had noticed. It was only a matter of time until I would face another humiliating situation so my fight or flight instinct came in. Of course I chose flight. Fighting would only lead me to more humiliation and a ruin of my reputation. Not that I have a pristine reputation, I still have to cherish and protect what I have. Making my way up the stairs, I collected my thoughts and entered the glorious room where my art tool called 'home'. Does it really sound crazy that I am so fond of this broken paintbrush? It's not even incredibly posh, it's torn and broken by the edge which usually stings my fragile fingers right through. Yet I have never felt desire for one item so much, it changes me. Every stroke I perform makes my chest lift and fill up with freedom, releasing the pain I have kept inside. Every stroke will build up to a finishing piece that was expose the truth that I am hiding from myself. Yet I know, deep down in my head, I don't believe it. If it's in my head, I'm bound to know.
I sat down on the stool placed behind the table stained with multiple paints. I see this everyday but lately, every little spot of paint looked perfect. Every blob was meant to be that way. I mean look at all these famous artists, they through a bucket of paint on a canvas and it sells for millions of dollars. People die to get their hands on anything unique and new, not caring how realistic it is or how childish it looks.
I hear my name being called from across the room and I search to see who it was, but everyone has their heads down with their eyes glued to their unfinished masterpieces. Usually I would look down and ignore the event but today, I felt ecstatic.
"If you called me, then at least don't look down whoever you are!" I screamed, standing up with great force that caused the stool to fall behind me with a bang. The whole class looked at me with confusion, glancing at me and over at each other. I expected someone to open up and tell me that they called me but that didn't happen.
"Well then who called me?" I shouted again, spreading even more confusion like the plague. Every single student was infected with confusion and they looked at me blankly. For a second, I was about to burst up in flames just to find out who the victim was but something stopped me. A thought stopped me.
What if I'm hearing things? What if no one called my name and I sounded like an idiot right now? What if I'm crazy?

(A/N Sorry this one took long. Technical problems including loss of phone so don't blame me. Actually blame me. I don't know.)