Post by ShInE on Jun 1, 2003 8:22:46 GMT -5
She awoke. A golden mist obstructed her vision. She parted the hair in front of her eyes and tucked the shiny strands behind her ears. She could see clearly now. That frightened her.
Tania held back her screams as she stepped off the bed. She winced at the stickiness beneath her feet. She walked into the bathroom, leaving behind dark red footprints on the marble floor. Tania looked in the mirror and saw that her face was a giant bruise. Black, blue and green. The wrong colors. At least, that’s what they said.
The girl went back into the room, her face scrubbed till it was sore. It was colorless now. She carefully avoided the red mass on the floor and got back into bed. She stared straight ahead. Tania liked what she saw. They had not. But soon they wouldn’t have the power to judge. A smile began to play on her lips. Stretching like a catapult. A moment later her face snapped back to the only expression she seemed to know now. A frown. “I’ll prove you wrong. You won't be able to stop me.”
Tania reached for the bedside table and grabbed the long object lying on it. Her only weapon. She dipped it into the glass of water that was next to it and put the bristles of the brush into the red paint that lay spilled on the floor. The container had rolled off a few feet away. Tania laughed at the memory. She got off the bed again. This time she screamed. That felt better. She walked to the canvas that stood in front of the bed and began to paint.
An hour later she eyed the finished work. “Finally. All done. There, what do you have to say now? I AM good”. Again the elastic smile. She felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled. She didn’t want to smile. But she did.
Tania washed the brushes and prepared to clean the floor. She had to erase the impressions she had left. She threw the soaking red rag into the bin when it was done. The floor was shining. White.
She was hungry. But there were things to be done. She went into the hall and picked up the tubes of paint. The snakes of color that slithered through the openings lay on the table. They were flat now. Dead snakes. The table was a riot of murderous colors.
After she cleaned the table, Tania finally looked at the couch. She felt no tears. There he was again. The puppeteer was beginning to pull at her mouth. This time Tania resisted. She frowned.
She went into the kitchen and came back with a box of matches. She found her cigarettes in the usual drawer and lit her first of the 30 she had each day. As the match struck the box, she watched it burst into flame. Bright orange and blue. She liked orange and blue. After changing into a dress, she took the finished canvas, still wet, off the easel, rolled it up and tucked it under her arm.
She stood in the hall once again. Looking at the couch. Tania picked up the matchbox, lit another one and dropped it on the couch before she even saw the blue. The match landed on the stack of old canvases. The ones they had actually liked. She watched her paintings burn. Watched as the vicious flames devoured her art. But only for a while. There was no time. She took a can of turpentine from the drawer and cackled as she tossed the contents into the air. Then with one canvas under her arm, she ran.
From a nearby phonebooth, Tania dialled 911 and reported a house on fire.
Tania held back her screams as she stepped off the bed. She winced at the stickiness beneath her feet. She walked into the bathroom, leaving behind dark red footprints on the marble floor. Tania looked in the mirror and saw that her face was a giant bruise. Black, blue and green. The wrong colors. At least, that’s what they said.
The girl went back into the room, her face scrubbed till it was sore. It was colorless now. She carefully avoided the red mass on the floor and got back into bed. She stared straight ahead. Tania liked what she saw. They had not. But soon they wouldn’t have the power to judge. A smile began to play on her lips. Stretching like a catapult. A moment later her face snapped back to the only expression she seemed to know now. A frown. “I’ll prove you wrong. You won't be able to stop me.”
Tania reached for the bedside table and grabbed the long object lying on it. Her only weapon. She dipped it into the glass of water that was next to it and put the bristles of the brush into the red paint that lay spilled on the floor. The container had rolled off a few feet away. Tania laughed at the memory. She got off the bed again. This time she screamed. That felt better. She walked to the canvas that stood in front of the bed and began to paint.
An hour later she eyed the finished work. “Finally. All done. There, what do you have to say now? I AM good”. Again the elastic smile. She felt like a puppet whose strings were being pulled. She didn’t want to smile. But she did.
Tania washed the brushes and prepared to clean the floor. She had to erase the impressions she had left. She threw the soaking red rag into the bin when it was done. The floor was shining. White.
She was hungry. But there were things to be done. She went into the hall and picked up the tubes of paint. The snakes of color that slithered through the openings lay on the table. They were flat now. Dead snakes. The table was a riot of murderous colors.
After she cleaned the table, Tania finally looked at the couch. She felt no tears. There he was again. The puppeteer was beginning to pull at her mouth. This time Tania resisted. She frowned.
She went into the kitchen and came back with a box of matches. She found her cigarettes in the usual drawer and lit her first of the 30 she had each day. As the match struck the box, she watched it burst into flame. Bright orange and blue. She liked orange and blue. After changing into a dress, she took the finished canvas, still wet, off the easel, rolled it up and tucked it under her arm.
She stood in the hall once again. Looking at the couch. Tania picked up the matchbox, lit another one and dropped it on the couch before she even saw the blue. The match landed on the stack of old canvases. The ones they had actually liked. She watched her paintings burn. Watched as the vicious flames devoured her art. But only for a while. There was no time. She took a can of turpentine from the drawer and cackled as she tossed the contents into the air. Then with one canvas under her arm, she ran.
From a nearby phonebooth, Tania dialled 911 and reported a house on fire.
i know it's pretty amateurish but just thought i'd post it and get a couple of reactions. 
i changed that around, cos even i found that a little over the top. but i guess my teacher would have preferred something about rainbows and daffodils!