Cyan Sleeves

Purple Paint

I didn't tell my parents about anything.

After that night, I walked home, climbed into bed, and didn't get up once all night. I woke up again with that restless feeling from my nightmares, blood pooled on my pillow.

I didn't say a word of it to anyone.

When I went to school the next day, I kept my head down and didn't speak at all, not even to Ochre. She didn't try to talk to me either, and although I missed the company of my friend, it was a well needed break from socializing.

I was terrified. I didn't understand what was going on around me anymore, and decided to cover up that feeling of confusion by actually focusing on school (for once.) It was nice to have some way to feel normal for a bit, even if the actual subject I was studying was dull as hell.

Nothing big happened for a while, but this was interrupted by Ochre bursting through the door during fifth period, an enthusiastic expression on her face.

"I need Oswald Richardson for a second!" She called out, and without waiting for a response, she came over to my desk and grabbed my good arm, tugging me up out of my seat with surprising strength.

"Hey, espera un segundo!" I shouted. She didn't stop walking out of the classroom, however. When we were out in the hallway, I took my arm out of her grip with an offended huff.

"What does that mean?" Ochre asked.

"It means, you're interrupting my Spanish class." I replied. I looked down at my sleeve and noticed the purple splotches. The same pigmentation was on her hands, as well. Great, there goes a good shirt. "Explanations, please."

"I understand something now!" She smiled brightly, beaming at me.

"Awesome, I'm glad you understand 'something.' Can I go?"

"No, I have to show you this. Come on!" She reached for my hand again, but I pulled it back just in time.

"I can follow you, just don't subject my shirt to more of this clothing cruelty." I sighed. Ochre nodded in understanding and began walking ahead, leaving me to follow behind her. She still limped a little, although she had graduated from the crutches yesterday. It was still nice to see an improvement.

When we stopped, it was inside of Mrs. Vasquez's art class. Strangely enough, the teacher wasn't in here, allowing me to come in without consequence. "You take art for fifth period?" I asked quietly.

"Surprised? Anyways, that's not what I'm here to talk with you about." She sat down at what was presumably her desk, while I stood to the right of her. "Look at this."

I looked at her desk and noticed all of the art supplies upon it – there were sketching pencils, two different types of erasers, acrylics in many different colors, and some weird white pencil-looking thing. The most obvious item, however, was the painting in the middle. It looked to be a painting of some lilacs sitting on a table, with a ray of sunlight over it. The sun only lightened half of the bundle of flowers, leaving the other half in the darkness. I didn't know much about art, but I knew the quality of the painting was pretty good for her skill level.

I didn't let this thought show on my face, however. "The painting is nice. Is that all you wanted to show me?" I asked flatly.

"Gee, thanks for the enthusiasm." She rolled her eyes. "This isn't what I as trying to show you, though. Check this out."

Ochre lifted up the paper with the painting on it, revealing another paper underneath. This paper was the same size, and was mostly white except for where the paint had gone through the top layer. This caused the paper to look wet and colored in some of the places where the paint had been used the most above it – however, it looked nothing like the original drawing.