As the rain trickled down outside my window I couldn’t help but feel lonely, to feel that this life will be forever. I know I only have one life but it feels impossible that it’s this one. My life is colourless, a white canvas on which I’m too scared to draw on. If only I had the courage, or the strength, I would fill my life with colour. Everything about me is colourless and dull but I keep going and try to find the life I really want. Now, as I moved to Twinbrook a few hours ago I find it’s changed since I’ve been here when I was 10. Everywhere I look the colour is so much, whoever I see looks so bright, and most of all, the town and everything and everyone is filled with colourful energy.
As I stare up at my newly started painting I can’t help but think of the last time I saw my parents, right before the ‘accident’. I don’t think it was an accident; that fire couldn’t have started on its own, not one as vicious as the one that stole my parents away from me. My parents were very popular but every respected person in the world knows they have to pay a price to have their life as is. My parents’ price to pay was utmost, honest jealousy from certain people. Some people, most of all close family friends, believe that our neighbours started the fire to get rid of all 3 of us; unfortunately for them, I survived, but I’m emotionally scarred.
A warm sunny day, just perfect for a day at the beach, became the day I would give anything to redo; I knew it was coming, deep down in my sub-conscious I remember the people who sold us this house warned me. The neighbours are mad, insane, crazy, bonkers, out of their minds…every time I talk about them I can’t help screaming these things. My parents and I were happily resting in the living room, all of us resting a head on one another or stroking their hand, but one thing was for sure, and that was that we were al relaxed.
I was only 6 years old at the time, so naturally I couldn’t remember much but the parts that I did was so intensely burned into my memory it still gives me nightmares. At that age I was as curious as any young child, and as soon as I smelled gas I became interested, sitting a little more straight and concentrated on my nose. It became stronger and stronger, and it seemed like mom and dad were slowly drifting to dreamland. I can’t remember how got them to understand the emergency but when the blurry part of the memory clears up it’s just flames everywhere.
As I felt his face against my shoulder my eyes slid over the floor to where a little girl was playing, looking up at her daddy with shiny eyes and a pouting lip. I felt his head turn on my shoulder and he immediately raced to her need. It was amazing to see a guy that helpful and that concerned about something important. My heart melted when I saw those 2 together and the only thing I could think of is how I want the 2 of us to be great friends. It would be an honour to have him as a friend.
My exploration of the town continued that night as I entered the local swimming pool with a jumping heart of excitement; I’ve had a great day and I loved to see all these interesting people in 1 place, which I happened to experience here as well seeing as the lot was packed. I got a fright when one of these people jumped out at me and gave me a hug.
“I just adore how you look! Don’t listen to the people who are saying mean things. They’re just not used to people like you” she said.
I hugged her back, happy that someone was so accepting.
“Thank you” I whispered.
As I walked to get my mail after a good night’s rest in my new house in the middle of the most extraordinary town, a good looking guy with red skin approached me. I nervously fiddled with the papers in my hand- firstly, no, this is not a soap opera you see on TV where the girl immediately falls in love with the guy; secondly, you need to know that I don’t have a collage education, so I’m going to have a hard time getting a job. Seeing as half of the mail in my hand is bills and the other half is ads my problem is already big enough. I glance through the window where my easel just happened to stand, and a hopeful idea came to mind.
I invited him into my room, a little nervous as my house isn’t anything past decent.
“So, what made you decide to pay me a visit?” I asked as I recognised him as the guy who wet his pants.
“You seem like an interesting and sweet girl, while I need someone to talk to?” he replied.
“Doesn’t she have a mother?”
“No. She died as she gave birth to our daughter. She wasn’t strong enough. She knew what would happen but she still wanted to have a child. No matter what I said she did it”
“I’m so sorry…I’ve also lost someone close. I know how it feels”
“Its a few years ago but I still miss her like crazy…if you don’t mind me asking, who have you lost?”
“I lost both my parents in a fire when I was 6” I started and before I could stop myself I blurred out everything to him. It felt good to talk about it but I felt a little shy afterwards, for telling him something so personal. To my relief he just smiled sympathetically and pulled me closer.
We shared a comforting hug to let our worries out, for them to escape from our minds and leave us with relief. We clung to each other for a few minutes with tears in our eyes before we finally let go. It felt good have all these things out, to just know someone is there for me.
I slowly walked back to my easel to pour my emotions into a painting, my brush gliding along the blank canvas as a few more tears fall onto my cheeks. My ears for some reason went on high alert and carefully listened to everything around me, but one thing I heard scared me. I heard faint voices talking outside, talking about something like bombing a house…my house…soon
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. You can find the storyboard version here. I'd love to hear what you think, so please comment here or on the forum.