365 Days.

I step back and look at the canvas in front of me,
tilting my head in thought as I assess it.
I fold my arms and shift my weight onto one leg.
Something’s not right.
Something’s missing here.
My newly dyed blue hair with purple bits gets in the way.
I brush it aside.

It’s Art,
and we have to draw our present selves
returning to a childhood memory that changed us
and watching it from the side.

We can use whatever media we want.
I picked paint and canvas,
something my hand is familiar at,
not that I’m afraid to try something new.

I’ve already sketched on the picture,
yet I feel as if I’m missing something in it.
As if a part of that memory is missing like a puzzle piece.

There are the four kids,
in their yellow, red, blue and green jumpers.
I remember I wanted to make my hair just as colorful.

There is the swing on which I,
in my purple coat,
swing upside down in.
This was when I wished to become more daring.

There’s the lady with the pram in the pink jacket.
I wished to too one day have a child.

And then finally there is the older boy,
about the age of fifteen as he looked to be,
drawing under a tree in a sketchbook.
I remember walking over to him,
telling him that I too wanted to become an artist.

I can remember him perfectly.
Black hair,
black shirt and jeans,
with a large white cross necklace,
and a studded belt.
With black converses with white lines,
and with a pierced ear.

I remember this boy had one eye,
and yet he drew as if he had two.
He told me he’d never give up,
just because of a small disability.

And I promised to him I would never give up either.

This eye,
however,
was his death.
Literally.
He got hit by a car only a week later…

I remember crying when my mother told me the news…

Mother…

That’s what’s missing.

I look up at the painting,
suddenly determined.

Mother,
she was sitting on the bench,
talking to the old lady that was feeding the pigeons,
but always having her eye on me.

Mother,
the woman I loved most in my childhood,
before she passed away from a sickness,
and father told me to forget her so I could move on.

Mother.

Tears try to slip out,
but I force them back.
I must finish this or I will forget again.

I take my pencil and add her in on the bench,
black beanie,
white coat,
black small boots with stockings.
Brown straight hair,
the softest I’ve ever touched,
fair skin and angled brown but clear eyes…
and how I wish I could draw her perfume,
a nice sweet lavender,
drifting in the breeze.

Finally,
I am done.
All I need to do now is paint it.

I glance at the clock,
only to see there’s only about five minutes left of the lesson.
I’ll have to start next time.
I return to my seat,
draw a few small little creatures in my book,
wait for the teacher to dismiss us.

And once he does,
I’m out the door,
heading quickly to the tree in the corner of the school yard.
Nobody goes there,
and I can get my peace.

But fate seems to have other plans for me.
Or maybe it’s Chase.

He appears out of nowhere to stand before me.

I stare down at my feet.
Crap…

He flashes his unsettling smile and puts an arm around my waist.
Then he leads me off somewhere.

I can tell it’s not the cafeteria,
cause we’re hading the wrong way.
I can tell it’s not the library,
cause we walk right past it.
It’s not the front of the school,
cause we’re heading inwards.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

I don’t want to see,
I want to know.
Now.
I try to stop in my tracks but somehow that’s impossible.
My feet just keep walking.
Like they don’t belong to me.

We’re in the empty parts of the school now,
the part where empty unused classes stand,
and we’re still walking.

I’m starting to wonder if this school ever ends when suddenly,

he stops,
looks around,
and walks between two buildings to the end.

I look up to see a group of guys,
his friends,
standing around in a circle,
talking and laughing.

They look over when Chase walks up,
and offer him something.
He takes it, lights it up.
It’s a cigarette.

Oh god.
Not again.

He offers one to me,

but like last time,
I shake my head.

Chase only shrugs,
takes a drag on his.

“Why am I here?”

Chase leans against a wall,
“To talk,
to socialize.”

I twist my lips to the side and look at the guys.
“What if you guys get caught?”

“This part of the school’s deserted.”
One of the guys says.
“Don’t you know anything?”

“I’m sorry for asking,
and interrupting your wonderful time of smoking…
whatever you’re smoking.”
I reply with a small annoyed snap.

The guy glares,
rolls his sleeves up.
“Bitch, what’d ya say?”

“Leave him alone,”
Chase interrupts,
“He’s new,
obviously he doesn’t know anything.”

I glance over at Chase,
and for once I’m grateful,
but Chase looks more interested in his cigarette than me.
I guess he’s only wanting to avoid a fight happening.

“Guys!”
A new voice sounds and another guy appears from the entrance.
“I’ve got the coke.”

There’s an excited chatter,
and everyone forgets about me for a moment.
They line it up and snort it up,
moaning, groaning and laughing in pleasure.

Even Chase joins,

much to my surprising disappointment.
Since when did I start to care?
I walk over to a wall and sit down against it.

Then the guy from before notices me.
“Hey kid, come try it.”
He waves me over.

I shake my head,
“I’m good.”

The guy frowns,
“Oh come on.
Have some fun.”

“I said I’m fine,”
I repeat.
“I don’t want to be snorting crap up my nose–”

“It’s coke,”
The guy mumbles.

“Whatever it is.
I don’t want to kill myself before time.”

“Everyone’s gotta die someday,”
Chase adds,
glancing over his shoulder.

And some tend to die earlier.
I dryly add to myself,
but then only shrug.
“Still no.”

“Fine,
By the way,
what is that?”
The guy gestures to my sketchbook.

“A book,”
I reply stubbornly.

“Yeah,
I know that,”
The guy looks annoyed.
“But like… what is it?”

“It’s his diary,”
Someone snickers and the guys laugh.

“It’s a sketchbook if you must know.
I don’t have a diary.
I don’t write my thoughts down.
They’re perfectly fine in my head.”

“Me neither.
I don’t have any thoughts”
The first guy replies and the guys laugh again.

“That’s cause you don’t have a brain.”

There’s a sudden silence,
And I realize I said the wrong thing.
I look up at them and twist my lips to the side a little.