Lone artist

Biting my lip, I walked into my silent house, and listened intently. I listened for the clicking of shoes, the buzz of the television, but I heard nothing. The small hope that my family had returned home, had been lost, as I trudged though my empty house, toward my bedroom.

The echoing of my foot steps seemed to make the house so much more empty. Pushing my door open with one hand, I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and searched for the unfamiliar contact I had just gotten. Not that it would be hard to find, seeing that I only had a few contacts. My brothers, Aiden, and Matthew, my mom and dad. The only person who wasn’t my family, and I talked to normally, was Ember Lee.

Ember Lee Jones, was my best friend. She was that girl, that people would never mess with. But, at the same time, was the most entertaining, nice person, like ever. Whenever I see teens like me - awkward and weird- I thank god that Ember Lee’s my friend. Nobody messed with me, because they knew, with ought a doubt, Ember Lee would beat the living daylights out of them.

She had actually done it before. When we were Freshmen, a Junior girl decided to be a brat, and take my sketch pad. That day, Ember Lee’s reputation for not being messed with started. Now that we’re both Juniors, nobody bothers us. And if they do, they would face the consequences.

I found out, that the boy from the beaches name was Colby. Biting my lip, I clicked on his contact and sent him a message.

Me: Hey, it’s the girl you thought was trying to kill herself at the beach. Is eleven tomorrow okay to paint you?

Biting my lip, at my oh so awkward message, I laid down on my bed and stared up at my roof. It was covered with pictures. Some were sketches, of birds, maybe even a pair of shoes I thought had the right amount of light hitting them. Some, on the other hand, were paintings. Again, they could range from a simple bird, to an in depth look at the ocean.

I shot up from my bed, that had reminded me that I was going to paint the little fish that I was looking at. Making my way toward my easel, I put my wet, black hair into a messy bun. I smiled as the image of the small, but full of color fish filled my head. I could still see them swimming, their scales changing colors as they moved. They were beautiful, and would be grand to paint!

As I was gathering the necessary paints I needed for the exotic fish, my phone vibrated from inside my wet pant pocket. “Ewh,” I muttered, remembering that I was soaking wet. I stripped all of my clothes off, leaving my paints on my floor in the process, and went to my dresser for clothes. I grabbed, a old NeverShoutNever shirt, that I had cut so it was off the shoulder, and a pair of fuzzy black pajama pants. Also underwear, but did everyone need to know that?

Once I had changed, I looked at my phone, and it was a text message. The name, ‘Colby,’ lit up my screen. Biting my lip, I read his message.

Colby: Haha, sure it’s fine. But, where do you want to paint me?

Biting my lip, I sent back the beach. I did have to have him wet, and I was not in the mood for telling a stranger my address.

Colby: Alrighty, Eleven o’clock at the beach. See you there(:

Smiling, I didn’t text back. I simply placed my phone on my bed, and feel back into the pattern of working on my painting.

^*^

Two and a half hours later, I was finished with my painting. It had turned out epic, just like I knew it would. Smiling, I did my normal procedure of hanging it on my wall. After I had finished, I heard the rumbling of my family as they returned home.

I peared at my phone before I left, it was Nine twenty-three. And my mom had called saying they were getting dinner at around six. Eithor they had gone far for dinner, or were totally fatties and ate everything in the resturant. I chuckled silently at my litle joke, as I walked slowly down the stairs.

I wasn’t greeted by the normal, hugs and ‘How was you day,’ like my brothers would be, whenever my parents hadnt seen them for a while. I got a death glare from my mother, and my little brother, who was holding his trophy in his hands spat a snide remark at me, “And here I was thinking you might have done something useful with your time, but no, I bet you were in your bedroom painting.”

My older brother, Matthew, ruffled Aiden’s hair, “When will she learn it will get her no where?”

My whole family then laughed, like it was the funniest thing in the world. My jaw was dropped, and I was fighting back the tears that were welling in my eyes. “This is why I don’t like you people,” I muttered quietly, turning on my heel to go back to my bedroom.

“Say something, Klari?” My fathers hoarse voice said as I was taking a step up the staircase. I rolled my eyes, and continued to climb the stairs, still fighting back the tears.

“Of course she wouldn’t respond. She’s probably going to paint something,” Matthew remarked in his all nowing voice. I couldn’t keep it back anymore. The tears began to trickle down my cheeks, and by the time I had reached my room, my eyes felt like waterfalls, spitting out water like it was their job.

I crawled into my bed, and sobbed silently into my pillow. I was about to fall asleep, when my phone vibrated from my pocket. My eyes dry as a bone from crying, I picked up my phone and looked at it. It was a text, from Colby.

Colby: I might sound like a creep. But, gooniight(: And, I cannot wait for tomorrow.

Grinning, I plugged my phone into my charger, and went to sleep. For the first time in months, falling asleep happy.