A Portrait of Whyte

1. Painting A Picture

‘Mels!  Get down.  Please!’

‘You don’t want to do this!’

‘Please!’

All the begging, pleading voices blurred together to Melanie, as she was ready, she just needed to put one foot in front of the other.  She could see the water below, violently crashing against the cliff face, over and over as a new wave formed.  She could see the currents dragging the body of water in all directions.  The sea itself opened its harsh, cruel, cold arms and she was ready to receive its embrace.  She just had to step forward.  Rain was washing down her face, mixing with her tears, binding her and the water together, even before she jumped.  Her tears were a mixture of pain and despair, she just had to jump and it would all be over.  She could jump; she had done it before, a simple movement that even three year olds can do.  She stretched her leg, feeling the force of the wind.  And then, still with her leg out, she held her breath and leant forward…

 Although this next bit is quite mundane, it is used only to paint the picture of Melanie's life.

A few months earlier.

Melanie woke by the sound of her alarm.  She breathed out a sigh and swung her legs over the side of her bed and stood up.  She left her room and made her way down the hall to the bathroom, dragging her feet as she did so.  The bathroom was occupied, but it could only be one person.  Max.  Max, Melanie’s nine year old brother, was designed like an angel.  He had big, sparkly blue eyes, caramel skin and blond hair.  Melanie was certain all the girls would swoon over him when he got older. 

Max left the bathroom and Melanie went in, she caught herself in the mirror.  What stood there was a girl of seventeen, her skin a natural pale vampire colour, light brown hair, a few scattered freckles, rosy lips and cheeks, slim, long legs and grey eyes.  That, at least, is how others saw her.  However, when she did look at her reflection she always saw a hideous creature: heavy, fat, spotty, uneven teeth, uneven eyes, chunky thighs, pudgy belly.  She hated her appearance and often averted her eyes if she came into contact with a mirror.

She showered and dressed in her baggie jeans and long-sleeved t-shirt with the aim of covering most of her skin; she tied her long hair back into a pony-tail and slid on her much worn, much-loved trainers.  She glanced out of the window on the landing.  It was a grey day. 

Once they were ready to leave Melanie walked Max to his school, at the gates he ran off to his friends,  happiness and joy spread over his face, sometimes she would watch him for a couple of minutes, watching his delight as he and his friends played ‘tig’ or pretended to be aeroplanes.  She used those minutes to live vicariously through his carelessness and freedom.  At least one of them seemed happy.

It was a very grey wintery day, the wind was harsh and it stung her eyes, she turned the collar up on her coat.  To Melanie, it felt that if someone captured her life in a painting, the picture would be in grey, even black and white would be too lively, bold and contrasting.  She put her back to Max and walked the grey tarmacked route to college.  She wasn’t in the mood for college today.  It wasn’t the lessons or the teachers, it was her friends or “friends” Melanie thought.  One minute everyone within their friendship group was happy and the next there was a ‘female-dog’ war.  The group was split down the middle.  All her friends were constantly at the others’ throats or the others were constantly pretending to be friends with one another even though they cannot stand each other.  Melanie would rather have preferred that they just tell each other what their problem was, so they can all carry on with their lives, it would then stop all the high-school-click rubbish.

She walked through the side gate and sighed, a miserable sigh.  She started to walk slower dreading meeting with her friends and the drama that that entailed, Janus’, she called them, like the two-faced Greek god.  After reaching their table in the hall, Melanie dropped her bag to the floor and sat, an awkward silence erupted around her ears.  The Janus’, when in a large group would conform with one another in their priest-like silence.  The group of friends sat there watching each other but never talking.  Ridiculous, Melanie thought, if they want me to go all they have to do is ask but until then I will continue to sit here.