Other Side

Fall breathes heavily in the air, the wind swirling in an inhale, gusting leaves up in an exhale. Theres a steady pause as the wind catches its breath, whispering gently. It inhales again, exhaling leaves and foliage across the bright green grass. I watch a red leaf drift to a halt next to me on the concrete. The lead pencil in my hand urges the want to draw. I tug my lower lip in my mouth and stre at my empty paper before I lift my hand up and connect lines in the shape of a leaf. I shade in darker parts, adding movement and media to my artwork.

Art is my relief. My muse, my safe haven. My mother used to teach me how to draw, filling in her design with acrylic paint and pastels. When she died I hid my emotions away in my yellow sketch pad. I drew depression deep into the layers, I drew anger and longing into the blank sheets. It forced me to forget. My heart still has a familiar emptiness from my mothers death but art heals the patches temporarily.

My music hums in my ears until its a white noise in the background as my leaf turns into autumn. My tongue escapes from the corner of my pink lips, every so gently swiping across the surface when the wind catches them dry. My neck begins to ache at the ange my head hangs at, brown hair draping ove my shoulders and collecting in heaps on my paper.

I use the tip of my pinkie to shade in, tucking curves away and adding reality. My phone rings, the t-moblie alarm blaring behind my eyes.

"Hello?"I ask, collecting my hair in a fist and tossing it over my shoulder.

"Eve? Hey its Lana." My bestfrends voice shuts down my imagination and I roll my head, stretching the kinks out. Lana nd I hve known each other since 5th grade. We live together in a small dorm room. She has always been in my life, holding me up when my life plunged into hell.

"Hey." I stand up, closing my sketch book and wiping the dirt off my butt. I adjust my flannel and start towards the main street to get back on campus.

"I know your drawing is like super important but we have to be at Tristans in 45 minutes." I roll my eyes. The dramatization of the situation sends a fleeting smile on my lips for her desperation to impress her possible new boyfrend.

"It wont take me 45 minutes to get dressed. So chill." Lana sighs.

"Itll take me an hour to get dressed and Im not even out of my pajamas. I need your help!"

"Im wlking up thesteps of our dorm now. " I say with a sarcastic edge. I hang up and walk down the hallway until I reach our smll room.

My father never agreed to me going to college for an art major. Art was in my blood. I had to. It was the only thing I enjoyed. He always wanted me to become someone heroic. Like a hostorical figure or a doctor.

"I'm back." I say as I push into our room. Lana has to outfits in her hands. One that looks like it belongs in slut one oh one and another outfit looks like it belongs to Seventeen magazine. Note: Lana is 19 years old. Not seventeen.

"Neither. What kinda party is this?" I ask. Lana rolls her eys.

"Tristan belongs to a fraternity. So what do you think?"

Inhale.

Exhale.

"What?"

Notes

So, what do you think so far? Sorry its kinda slow but things will pickup. Im excited!!!
comment and vote pleaaaaaaaase!

xoxoxo all the love
Catie Styes