#17 Did a box of crayons blow 'up'?

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#17 Did a box of crayons blow 'up'?

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Fay

Art is a beautiful thing in life. I think it's amazing that some people out there are great at drawing and painting in new; intriguing ways. I've always been an abstract fan, don't know why, and people in my home town, have often thought I was bit odd for the paintings I liked, even at a young age.

I would've rather painted or drawn a bunch of circles, next to each other, all different, bright, vibrant colors. Others would usually think I had issues for that, but that was known for other reasons.

Enjoying bursts of colors, instead of drawing something and coloring it in, like a flower, was weird to my teachers for a six-year-old Fay. It was just too boring for me, so I drew a tractor mowing down the flower, and it exploded into a bunch of pretty, colorful petals.

So basically, I failed art as a kid.

Paw prints move over my shoulder. I can almost parlay that, they most certainly are paws. Meaning Robert.

This has been our daily morning routine for the past week. I would stay up late and study at my desk, and he would sit on my lap throughout it all, then, he would wake me, when the sun comes up, because I've fallen asleep on my desk, face down.

"Morning Robby boy," I say to my little kitty, happily, gently taking him off my shoulder; into my lap once more. His neon eyes only look up at me, before he lays on his back. Already knowing that he wants a belly rub, I, of course, give in to his cute starcher.

I huff getting up from my chair and place him on my bed. Clicking my phone open to see the time, 9:32 am pops up and I remember that it's Sunday, so I'm safe when it comes to my classes.

Walking happily over to my closet, I grab some warm sweat pants, a light blue hoodie, and my narwhal socks. I then hop over to the bathroom to do my everyday normals.

Once I've finished, I walk through the hallway, stopping due to seeing that Eli's door is open. "He didn't come home last night?" No, he probably left somewhere early this morning. "Puff! Eli and early morning? Are you hearing yourself?"

I can't help but agree. A glimpse of the unknown room catches my eye, and I look away. It's not good to look at other people's rooms. But, because I'm such a curious, annoying rascal. I only take a quick look.

The room is a little bigger than mine, the walls are a plain white, a bed and dresser are the only furniture. Everything is a mess, meaning a bunch of clothes are thrown everywhere, and the bed is unmade.

"Dang, why is he so messy? I would get OCD with all that stuff around."

Well, that was boring. I walk away into the living room, and see something I've never thought I'd see living in this apartment. My boredom has been disintegrated.

The once plain, white, clean living room walls, are now filled with colorful scribbles, and a LOT of them. I walk over to see it better and notice that it's drawn with crayons and markers. There are some little pictures of some stick men and. A horse? I think. Its legs are going out like a spider, so I've got no clue.

Looking around for evidence, I see that the apartment door is open. Quickly I run over and lock it. Robert makes his way from around the hall, and sits next to my leg. "Alright Robert, we've got a break in, looks like the culprit is small." I judge, looking back at the wall, to see that the piece of art only goes up the wall to a certain point.

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