V is for Vicodin

Blood Run Cold

Okay, so literally half of this chapter is just about the history of the painting, but I did A LOT of research on it and wanted to put it to good use. Plus, I just thought this would be a really tense, interesting situation for Theo to find himself in. Sorry if it bores you though. Oddly enough, I myself am not a history person, so I get it. Speaking of school though, I have AP exams coming up next week, so I will definitely not be writing as much. I hope to get back to it immediately after that though. Just a heads up, but enjoy! :)

Before I knew it, my dad and Xandra were already leaving to go out of town, so I panicked. I stalled, calling Mr. Atwood to see about going to sit in on one of his lectures instead. I knew that wouldn't blow over well with Arabelle, but I had to do something.

"Alright, students. I trust that you all had a good weekend. *pauses* Today we're going to be talking a little bit about the Dutch Golden Age, illusionary techniques such as trompé-l'œil, and the tragic death of a remarkable painter. And all of what I just mentioned can be connected to one single painting."

I was intrigued already.

*picture appears on screen*

You've gotta be shitting me!

"This here is The Goldfinch by Carel Fabritius, signed and dated 1654."

Fuck. Don't panic, it's just a dream. Pinch yourself.

"Carel Fabritius was a Dutch Baroque painter of portraits depicting everyday life, ordinary people, and even more narrative subjects like this one right here. His use of light and space was very influential among the mid-17th century school of Delft. The Goldfinch is one of the few works we know by him, but even so, the painting was lost for more than two centuries before its rediscovery in Brussels."

It's already been lost once before? My god, what am I going to do!

"Now, the reason I chose this painting was because it was recently stolen, stolen from the Metropolitan Museum of art and I think it's important that we take these current events to heart. Why let a moment like this pass us by when we could take this opportunity to our advantage and learn about it, right?"

No, not right. Doesn't he realize the connection it has to me? That day, the day my mother was killed, the day he damn well knows about. Of course, he doesn't know the real reason I turned white as a sheet, or the overwhelming guilt that made my blood run cold. I know that no one else knew what was going through my head but me, but it still didn't feel right. How could I listen to this painting's history when I was it's thief? Or was that precisely the reason I needed to hear it because it was in my possession, it was my mother's favorite painting, and now it was...mine?

"So, let's dive right into it, shall we? *clears throat* The Dutch Golden Age lasted a full decade between the 16th and 17th century, but more specifically, it took place between the years 1575 and 1675. Now, what makes this painting so interesting is the simplicity of its composition. This is something fairly peculiar to see at this point in art history, but what's even stranger about it is its use of illusionary techniques. *breathes* The painting shows a life-size European goldfinch atop a blue feeding box with a lid, enclosed by two wooden half-rings fixed to a white wall. The bird is perched on the upper ring, though bound by a fine chain. Such a simple concept of being trapped, yet one that we can all relate to without anymore being said about or told of its story. And I think we can all agree that the brushwork is just so lovely, I mean, you can practically see the downiness of his feathers."

I was trapped in that moment, trapped like that very bird, clinging to a perch by an everbounding chain. I couldn't look away, I couldn't run. It was like a car crash, everything happening in slow motion right before my very eyes but all beyond my control. He then went on to say: