Unfinished Painting

Number Five

He sat in his room, alone and sad. "Why must I suffer like this? Am I that bad of a person? Is my talent my sin?" He cried into his palms. With nobody around to wipe his tears away, he began painting through his sorrows. He looked around the rummaged room at picked up what he needed. Reds and browns, dark blues and pale yellows; he found himself staring at a large, angry wave that crushed a little fishing boat. Staring at it made him furious. It made him tear the canvas, "if painting is my sin, a sinner I shall be!"

Night came but so did Death; without making a sound, he took the painter's father, leaving behind an unpleasant-looking corpse. 

A tired-looking Bounty was to deliver breakfast and medicine. But when he didn't hear his Father's usual coughing, it was but obvious. Life was no longer by his side. Bounty sat down at the foot of the corpse and looked out the window. He walked to his Father's desk, pulled out a fresh sheet of paper, wiped the quill clean and dipped it into the inkpot.

Dear Theophilus, my brother

Father is no more. If you have been reading my letters, you will know that he suffered for a very long time. I was able to sell my paintings in order to pay for his medication. Yes, I am a painter now. 

But I am drained, of everything. I would be ever grateful if you could help me get back on my feet again.

I have lost the inspiration to paint. I have enemies now, who I haven't done anything to but seemed to be aroused at my short-lived success. I am fearful and lonely. Soon I will be gone too. But one thing I ask of you, as I always have. Remember us, your family. Remember the times we lived joyfully. Remember the poem that Mother taught us:

In the desert, is a rose.

In the wilderness, it grows.

Many say that is impossible,

Such, have grown morose.

One man did find it,

Because one man knows,

Only if you search with all your heart,

You will find the rose.

It is what keeps me motivated, brother. I hope this letter finds you before it is too late.

He signed the letter and folded it. Gently lifting the blanket to cover the rest of the corpse, Bounty left the house to arrange for a burial.