Where Two Collide

Chapter Fifteen - Cat

Chapter Fifteen

Cat

There was something missing. Something important. It was driving me slowly insane. The words Mrs Talbot had said to me in art club had stuck with me, and I just couldn't work out what I needed to do to fix it.

When my parents told me Alice was being allowed to come home, I thought awesome, now I can stop worrying on that I can focus on my art. Absolutely. If only it was as simple as that.

I had zero inspiration. Zilch. Zippo. Not a single thing. That was that.

Art was a form of creative spirit, and if your brain is just not feeling creative, you cannot force it to work. It didn't seem to matter how much I stared at the pages of art I'd already created, none of it screamed out at me. None of it told me what I was missing.

I'd been doing this for days now. Spending hours upon hours with blank pages that I couldn't fill. I'd even rearranged my plans with Travis, and then rearranged them again. I had planned to head over today, but I just couldn't tear myself away from my project. He seemed unhappy with me, doing that clicky thing he does with his tongue, but hadn't said anything of the sort, just "You need to learn when to take a break." I appreciated the sentiment, but I disagreed wholeheartedly.

It was important, this was important, and my fear was that inspiration would arise and I would be in the worst place possible to actually do anything about it. Then, as quickly as the revelation would arise, it would fade away into nothingness never to be seen again.

Creativity was fun like that. One moment I'd be filling pages upon pages, canvas upon canvas, as though my brain was on fire and creativity was the only way to put it out. The next moment, my brain was a black hole, where things went to die.

Dad rapped on the door, though the door was open, and I was in the dining room which was really a family space not my own private space-though I'd sort of claimed it as such at that moment. "What are you up to tonight?" he asked.

I'd had thought it was obvious. I'd lain down a plastic sheet on the dining table and there was paint and brushes everywhere. I shrugged. "Just working on some stuff for school."

"Uh huh," he said, but didn't leave, just kind of stood there in the door. "Are you not going to hang out with some friends tonight?"

"No."

"Don't kids your age spend their Saturdays at the movies having fun, not cooped up inside with their parents?" he asked.

I looked up and gave him a pointed look. "You mean like Alice does. Are you saying you'd like me to be more like Alice?"

"No, well yes, maybe a bit." He looked up at the ceiling and I could see he was struggling to find the right words. "I just think maybe you should spend more time out of the house and less time in it," he said slowly.

I snorted. The irony didn't escape me. If he knew how little time I actually spent at home, he'd be saying the opposite. "I'm fine," I said and looked back down at my papers.

It went quiet for a moment and I thought he'd gone, but then he said, "Well, we're going to pick up your sister from the hospital, then I have shift so I'll see you tomorrow. Maybe try and take a break to have a little fun."

I nodded but didn't look up. It was normal for my dad to pick up last-minute shifts over the weekend. He'd been made redundant the year before and his new job didn't guarantee hours, you had to just take what you were given. This sometimes meant wildly inconvenient hours, but I'd not heard him complain about it even once, though I knew their finances were a little strained at the moment.

When they get back Alice sprints by, I raised my hand to say hey and think she's going to come in to talk but she doesn't stop. I went to visit her several times whilst she was in hospital, yet it still felt like I'd barely seen her. It probably didn't help that we'd spent our lives sharing a bedroom and in the past week I've had the entire room to myself. It was weird how empty a room could feel when a person was missing.

I headed to the kitchen to make myself a sandwich with cheese and salad and a squirt of salad cream, and as I'm cutting into square's, Alice came in a swiped a quarter. She gnaws on the crust like a hamster, then pulls a disgusted face.

"Ugh, what's with you and salad cream, why don't you make sandwiches with mayo like a normal person."

I rolled my eyes at her. "I could have made you one if you'd have asked. But this was my sandwich and I made it the way I like it."

"I don't want my own, I want yours," she said, giving me puppy eyes. "You make your sandwiches with military precision; it makes me feel like I'm a General in your army."

"One, that doesn't make any sense at all." I pulled my plate away from her just as she tried to steal another square. "And two, you'd be a Private not a General."

"Rude." She stuck out her lower lip at me, then quick like a cat darted around the table, taking another piece before she backing up to the doorway with her prize in hand. "Hey where's dad?"

"Work."

"I thought he was working this morning?"

"He was."

"Huh," she said through mouthful of sandwich. She really was clueless when it came to anything happening in this family. "What about mum?"

I gave a her a look. "What am I, the house secretary?"

She laughed at that, then left, presumably in search of mum. I finished up the rest of my sandwich and trudged back to the dining room. This time I pulled up a chair and sat with my elbows on the table and my face in my hands. I was deep in thought when I heard the front door slam shut. My mum appeared in the dining room and leant on the doorframe.

"Your sister's gone out," she said matter-of-factly.

I looked up in surprise. I'd expected them to take hold of the reins when it came to Alice, or in the very least ground her for like two months. She'd not been punished at all, even though what she'd done was incredibly stupid. She'd barely been home half an hour and she was already off out. Clearly shoving her back in her box was not going to happen.

"With Owen?" I asked, wondering if he was stupid enough to drive over again. Probably.

"No with Rachel and Tia," she said, pushing strands of her long brunette hair behind her ears. "I'd have thought you would have gone along too; I didn't expect to find you still in here on your own. Especially as they're your friends as well."

"They aren't my friends," I snapped, more harshly than I had intended. The idea that I was friends with those two-faced girls was less than a pleasant one. I preferred to keep better company. "Besides, I'm working on something tonight."

Mum nodded, leaning forward in her chair to get a look at the paperwork I had piled on the table. "Is this work for your class or your club?"

"Both. For my career," I said, then hesitated. I didn't really want her to find out about the submissions for the Art Program. I didn't want her to worry about how much it would cost if I was accepted. I probably wasn't even going to be accepted, so there was no reason for her to have to think about it right now. "Just some stuff we are doing for class."

She smiled, turning one of the pieces to look at it. It was my favourite that I'd done so far; it was a large tree sprouting up through the ruins of a house, its bare branches wrapping around the red brickwork. "Is this our house?"

I shook my head. "No... just a house." I didn't bother to explain that I was going for symbolism, and the tree in the house represented the beauty springing from ruin. I wasn't sure she'd understand, or maybe I was just worried she might judge it. I wasn't a fan of criticism, even the constructive kind felt like people were saying You are not good enough. I said that enough to myself, I didn't need to hear it from other people too.

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