Nothing but a Painting (Ib Fanfic)

Epilogue: Those Who Never Die

I wake up in a white place. A place where the floor, walls, everything was was white. This appeared to be a museum, or a gallery perhaps, however, no sculptures sat, no paintings hung and no statues stood. Nothing was there but me and this building.

I walk around this place, wondering where I am. None of this makes any sense.

Who am I?

Suddenly, the white gallery turns into a normal one. I hover in the air, but I do not scream, for I'm in that much shock. I calm myself down and drop to the ground. I look around, i see many people examining the gallery. A mother, father and young girl come in, the girl tucking a handkerchief in her pocket.

For some reason, she looks familiar.

I look around more, just being curious. I find someone else who looks familiar. He's looking at a picture portraying a doll, or man, hanging by their foot. A noise to my left changes my interest, and I see the gallery doors open. Students come flooding in, you can tell theyre students because many adults scold them for being so loud coming into the building. The class begins writing their names on the paper tags and sticking them to their shirts. I walk to them, I don't know why...they seem familiar, but... They don't seem to notice me... or even see me. I break into a run and lose my footing. I trip, falling right through their bodies, landing on the cold, tile floor. I sit up and look at my hands. They're slightly translucent. I stand up and sigh. Am I in the past? Am i dead?But... where am I? What's going on--

"You're not there," a familiar voice says. The gallery turns back to the white state, and I turn around.

"Mary," I say. I remember this person. I stole her life and destroyed my own. I pull a paper tag out of my pocket and read it.

Lorelei.

Flash

Can I take some of this red paint?

Flash

My name's Garry...

Flash

You can remember, but you've gotta try reeeeaalll hard...

Flash

W-where's Garry...?

Flash

Just make it out safely...

(End of flashbacks)

I slowly walk towards her. "I..." my voice trails off. I collapse to the ground. I begin to shake uncontrollably. "This... this is my fault," I cry. "It's my fault were stuck like this, it's my fault Ib and Garry had to go through that hell, it's my fault that your life is ruined, it's my fault that neither of us is in existence anymore," I sob. "I-...I'm so sorry!" I open my eyes and see teardrops on the floor.

Teardrops.

Am I--

"I think you've figured it out," Mary says, sitting down across from me. "In this place, we're real. We can live. Not in the same sense as outside, but in a different way. And it's okay," Mary places a hand on my shoulder. "I forgive you. Of course I wish that I was outside, but that's impossible now, isn't it? You've said your apologies, and that's good enough for me." She grabs my hand. "I have to show you something." She drags me down the halls and get to the entrance. Mary opens the door but it does not open to the outside. It opens to a giant art studio, however, the walls are painted with a beautiful scenery of rolling hills, swaying trees, a river cutting through the ground and even animals and bugs are painted in various places. An elderly man sits at a canvas, painting yellow roses on the border. He turns around and smiles. "Hello, Lorelei." He stands up. The painting behind him is revealed. Me and Mary stand together. Yellow roses line the side that I stand on and dark purple ones line Mary's side.

"I believe that I never gave you a rose," he smiled, handing me a dark purple one. I smile, and Mary and I hug him.

Guertena.

•••

"Hey, Mary," I say. We sit next to each other, I look at her as I twirling my purple rose. "You had your yellow rose before this time. Did you see him previously?" Mary nods. "Yes. He was wondering why you weren't visiting. It was at that point I remembered everything, and he knew. I didn't even have to say anything." Mary clutches the rose close to her heart. "I wonder why there was a way out, it couldn't have just been us who tried to escape."

"That's it," I say, standing up.

"The Lady in Blue," Mary finished my thought.

I nod. "She let it slip. She was the only one who had known of an exit, she had to have at least tried to leave." I frown. "But it makes me wonder... why did se want to leave? I suppose we'll never know."

Mary sighs and sits back down. "It doesn't matter now. We're stuck here, but watch this." Mary pulls me over to an empty canvas, paint tubes and brushes patiently sit organized, waiting for us to pick them up. Mary grabs a thin brush and places it in green paint. As soon as the brush grazes the canvas, a white light engulfs us and we are now in another white area. There seems to be no apparent ground and the only other thing besides us is a small table that has brushes, paint, water and other tools on it.

"This is our canvas," Mary says. I give her a sideways look, she then demonstrates. "Watch." She begins to paint tangible objects, in this case, leaves begin to sprout out of no where. We exchange a smile and I get a paintbrush, placing it in pink paint. I create cherry blossoms and next brown, making the tree and the bark. We paint a beautiful landscape, but as we are close to finishing, something is missing.

"A house," Mary says. We paint a little cottage, and even add detail in the windows and flowers on the rooftops.

We set all our tools back on the table and are transported back to the art studio. We take the painting out into the white gallery and hang it where Mary and I woke up.

"What should we call it?" Mary asks.

I smile, knowing just the name.

"Home," I replied as we step into the painting.

THE END