Pretty When You Cry

One

There's so much beauty in the colour green. Leaves, grass, and the moss that covered every stump of tree that was visible to the eye. It's the colour of life.

My life lacked, well, life. It was like a story that had no climax, a joke without a punchline. I loved my parents but I had been raised to keep away from anything kids my age considered "fun". I wasn't bold, I couldn't force myself to go out to parties or hang out with boys. It's not because I couldn't make friends, because I could. I did. I just wasn't into boys, or drinking, though I enjoyed cigarettes.

I rolled myself out of my warm bed, the blanket enveloped me in a cocoon as I tried to slip my bare legs from under it. The air in my room was chilly, the night air had taken its toll on the atmosphere around my warm bed. Goosebumps immediately took over my pale legs as I tried to swiftly slide into a pair of maroon sweatpants. My grey hoodie was slung on the back of my computer chair so I quickly galloped over to it and slid it over my bare body. I hated clothes. Living on my own had its perks, I rarely wore them.

I was basically born independent, everything was done on my own. A high school in B.C had offered to house me if we paid utilities which wasn't a problem. My parents agreed to cover them until I could find a roommate to pay the other half.

My apartment was always quiet. The white walls were covered in my own paintings, and in the far corner of my living room, sat my easel and my supplies, scattered over a small corner table. I headed for my stool and plopped myself down while letting a tiny yawn escape my lips. After rubbing my eyes, I picked up my paintbrush and dipped it in water before dragging it through a light blue colour. My brush moved lightly across the canvas, creating the outline for an ocean as I'd spent my day yesterday creating the perfect sunset. the blue and deep yellow blended together perfectly, creating a deep blueish-green in the middle of my canvas.

After painting for a good forty-five minutes, I stood from my spot at my canvas and stretched my back as well as my sore arms. My alarm went off, signalling that it was quarter-after eight.

I threw on a pair of grey leggings and a black T-shirt that said "Stockholm Music Festival". My red hair was tied up in a neat bun and I lightly brushed my eye lashes with mascara before heading out the door to my '99 Mazda.

School wasn't something I dreaded, rather, I looked forward to it. I really enjoyed my english class and of course art. I attended their AP art program based on a piece of mine that had been sold in a museum up in the Yukon. I didn't talk to anyone, not yet at least. Today was merely the beginning of my second week, and I'd intended to do nothing less than make at least one friend, or even find a roommate.

My feet padded towards my locker along the tiled floors as I struggled to carry the pile of flyers I'd made, looking for a roommate along with my binder and heavy school bag. I stuck the sheets up along the halls and outside the office so that hopefully someone might see it and take my offer.

The day droned on, starting with english AP 30 and ending with Biology 30. I hadn't had much luck on the whole "making friends" thing yet. I let out a slight sigh. How disappointing, I thought to myself as I slung my bag over my shoulder and held an art piece of mine in my free hand.

"Is that yours?" The voice was high, slightly on the "too loud" side of things which made me wince a bit as I met eyes with a blonde girl. She wasn't much taller than me but the difference was noticeable. She had piercing blue green eyes and full lips as she smiled at me with hopeful eyes. I cleared my throat.
"Uh.. y-yeah. It is." I gave her a shy smile as she marvelled at the canvas in my hand. On it, a tiny hummingbird sat on a branch of a cherry blossom tree.
"It's amazing." She was bubbly every time she talked, almost giggling with every word that left her perfect teeth.
"I'm Mae by the way. Sounds like the month, spelled with an 'e'." I smiled politely as she shot her pearly whites my way.
"Aliya." I answered. It's not that I didn't enjoy talking to people, but the thought of interacting with someone made my palms sweat and my tongue go numb. I hated when people drew attention to me in any way, but Mae seemed harmless. She was fabulous but had a twinge of simplicity to her. She offered to walk with me to the student parking lot on the west side of the building and I wasn't one to turn that down. She was very friendly and the entire walk she talked my ear off about boys and complained about her math homework, to which I gave simple head nods and occasional "mhm's" in agreement.
"It was awesome talking to you Aliya. Your art is amazing," She looked a little ways down the street and sighed slightly, "my bus should be here any minute." My eyebrows furrowed a bit.
"No license?" I related all to well, as I'd only obtained my license 6 months prior. She nodded her head and shrugged it off. "How about I drive you? I don't mind." Her eyes lit up three shades and she smiled as she made her way over to the passenger door.

The drive to my place is usually quiet, today however, I took a slight detour. Mae's house was less than a 5 minutes drive from my small apartment and the whole ride to her house, she went on about herself. She was just merely sixteen, making me a full two years older than her, not that it mattered. She was an only child and was born in a small town in Alberta, just outside of Kamloops. After telling me about her hopes and dreams she jumped right into gossiping about different boys and teachers and old friends she'd wanted to warn me about. I couldn't help but smile, I'd made a friend and I felt slightly better about being new. We pulled into her driveway and I admired her simple home, with old wood surrounding the structure making it look like an old barn or cottage.

"Thank you sooo much!" She threw her arms around me and I let out a little laugh as she snatched my phone from me and added her number in my contacts. I waved goodbye as she skipped up her pathed lawn, her blonde hair bounced around her tan shoulders. That was my signal to leave and I felt slightly less lonely than before during my quiet drive home.