The Mandala Girl (COMPLETED)

Chapter 11

The following day, I spend half the morning reclaiming my bedroom and putting everything back in its rightful place. My brother didn't relinquish the bedroom without a fight, however. He had grown accustomed to having his own room and wasn't too happy about having to go back to sharing one with my other siblings. I guess there are perks to being the older child. Well, that and having everyone think you've made a miraculous return from the great beyond gives you added brownie points.

One thing I can't get out of my head was how immediate those voices attacked me after telling TJ we needed to get rid of the paintbrush. They remained dormant until that moment, then they unleashed their haunting call. It's as if they felt threatened by me deciding to get rid of the paintbrush, almost like they could comprehend what that meant.

My phone makes an electronic whistle, informing me of an incoming text message. It's from TJ.

TJ: Anything weird happen today?

Me: Aside from getting to sleep in this morning? Nope. Not a thing.

TJ: That's good.

Me: I'm going to bury the paintbrush later today beneath the oak tree behind Cubby's. Wanna come?

TJ: Cool. I'll be there with a shovel in hand.

I find it quite fitting burying the paintbrush at the very place where I learned how to paint. Or at least tried to learn how to paint. Leon always made certain I never garnered too much confidence in my artistic abilities. I never could go even one session without him trashing my work, but that's okay. I never created my art to please him. But that begs the question. Why did Leon pick on me and only me? I mean, sure, I was likely the least talented student in the class, but his snarky persistence is hard to ignore. Maybe he secretly likes me. Oh, dear! I can't bear to think how badly that would have ended. Or maybe he really was that cruel. Whatever his intentions were, I can find peace knowing I'll never have to see his face again.

* * *

It took some convincing, but mom finally agreed to let me out of the house. The catch, however; I had to promise to keep my cell phone on me at all times and to send a check-in text message every fifteen minutes. This whole disappearing off the face of the planet for almost a year thing has really got her shook up. I guess I should expect nothing less. She could tell by my disapproving look I wasn't at all eager about this new form of parenting, but I could either agree to her demands or have an ankle monitor strapped to my leg 24/7. Naturally, I went with the text message option. At least this way it won't look like I've just escaped from a supermax prison.

Since art class is held on Tuesdays and Fridays, and seeing as how it's a Thursday, it isn't a surprise to find Cubby's parking lot empty. The early Autumn climate has turned most of the one-hundred-year-old oak tree's leaves to a spectrum of reds, yellows, and oranges, making it look exceptionally lonely today. I've always thought it funny when people express that Autumn is their favorite season because of the changing of the leaves. It's like they're saying in effect, "Yay! The foliage is dying. I love it!".

I take out the wooden chest from my art bag and place it on the grass at the base of the tree. What a wild few days this little thing has put me through. My heart is in a battle with my brain. I want to be free from all the lunacy, but that will only come at the expense of not knowing what could have been. I guess that's why curiosity killed the cat.

TJ pulls up in a red Nissan pickup truck ten minutes later. He hops out and grabs a shovel from the truck bed and moves over to me.

"That's the first time I've seen you drive a vehicle," I say. "I was beginning to think you didn't own one."