Everything I can see is a mix of green, yellow, orange, white, black and so many other colors. It makes me think about a painting I saw once in a contemporary gallery. That's why I called this place the "painter's view". I often go here to have the occasion to see this beautiful place even if my parents don't like it at all. I can't understand why they think like this.
My father loves these little creatures he shows me sometime from an old book. One day, I asked him if he had ever seen one of them. He told me: "Yes I did, it was a long time ago. But I would do anything to see even just one once more." The next day I came back at home with one of them, smiling with all my pride. He looked at it with a weird face. Then he got mad at me, screaming that's it's not what he was looking for. However, I'm sure it exactly looked the same at the picture. Except the fact that I don't know why the creature on the photographs don't have the beautiful colors of the one I found. Maybe I confused with another breed.
Today is a big day. Dad want to go with me to see the painter's view. I'm so glad! Maybe he would be able to find one of these creatures he's dreaming of. We finally arrive. I can't help smiling. Dad stops walking and silently watches the view. He turns his head to me and breaths deeply.
— Do you know why we don't want you to go here?
I shake my head negatively.
— When I was about your age, my parents took me in a wonderful place. It was a bit crowded, but I didn't mind because I saw for the first time the most magnificent thing the world had provided us. My feet sank in the warm yellow floor, it was hard and funny to walk there. The air smelled salty, making my nose tingle before I got used to it. But most importantly, when I look up to the horizon, all I saw was an endless zone of blue water mixed up with the blue sky. It was the ocean where all the marine animals I showed you used to live.
— And where is that "ocean", dad? Can we go there together? We could see these animals again!
— Ocean as I knew it doesn't exist anymore, sweetheart. What you like to call the painter's view was the ocean before humans destroyed it inconsiderately. I'm sorry you didn't have the chance to see it.
I don't get it. The floor is dark and hard. It only stink and I can't get used to it. Moreover, I can't see anything blue in the horizon, not even the sky. Everything I can see is a mix of green, yellow, orange, white, black and so many other colors...but no blue, not even water.
YOU ARE READING
The Painter's View
Short StoryCeci est une nouvelle que j'avais initialement écrit pour un concours Wattpad avec le National Geographic. Mais bon, niveau ponctualité je suis une vraie plaie...Bref, malgré mon retard pour le soumettre j'ai été satisfaite de mon travail donc je vo...