This is something that i just started typing up. i was bored and this kind of fell out of my mind. please feel free to comment and review.
Skittles
Everything was covered in what looked like satin that day. It was cold and the whole town was embedded in a thick blanket of the white snow.
I walked down the streets with my hands shoved in the pockets of my parka. A scarf was wrapped securely around my neck and whipped flawlessly in the slight wind. I wore my favorite black rain boots and headband that tucked my short blond hair behind my ears. I felt like a piece of paper being blown around with the cold breeze.
White puffs of air streamed out of my mouth as I walked through the white wonderland that used to be the park. It’s amazing, I thought. I was climbing the stairs to Main Street. Main Street was where I could sit and draw all day. I would sketch the millions of people who walked by me. Sometime I wished some of those people could be my friends. I never had any friend since no one talked to me in school. I was a shadow that they merely walked over.
I quickly took my seat on my special bench and took out my pencil and sketchbook. I placed my bag underneath me, not to be rude, and flipped through the millions of drawing I had done. I finally flipped to an empty page and stared at it.
I loved drawing Main Street life with the old New York style buildings and brick roads. It was like a dully colored munchkin land.
“Hot chocolate,” someone called. “Hot chocolate,” I looked up and studied the man selling the hot chocolate. He was dressed warmly in a parka like me. He wore blue earmuffs that contrasted with his unnaturally orange colored hair. His freckles sprinkled like cinnamon across his cheeks, he looked like a doppelganger of Tom Sawyer.
I quickly reached into my pocket and took out seventy-five cents. I read the sign. A dollar. I sighed and put the quarters back into my jean pocket and sketched the outline of the boy’s body. My stomach growling.
It wasn’t long until my nose started dripping. I used the back of my hand and discretely whipped it on the bottom of my jeans. It was just a decoy so I knew that the back of my hand wouldn’t hold it off. I had to blow. Ice cream, I thought.
I quickly packed up my things into my bag and walked into the ice cream shop across from me.
“Kilwins,” I said. I breathed in the sweat aroma of the ice cream, fudge, and cookies. It was heaven. This was the natural haven for teens. I felt somewhat a sense of alikeness. I wasn’t completely different than my peers.
“May I help you?” I twirled around. The cashier was smiling. I could tell it was fake. I would kill myself if I had to work all day in a dessert shop and not be able to eat any of it.
“No I replied,” I stole a glance at the prices. Fourteen dollars for a root beer float. The cashier nodded and went to the next customer. I walked over to a table where there were a bunch of tissues. Kilwins was sponsoring the display of tissues that won’t give you a rough nose. I didn’t think you were supposed to take on since they were on a show case, but my nose was really running. So I quickly snatched one and blew my nose in it. I let out a long sigh. It felt good to breathe again. I noticed that the cashier was watching me.
“It’s a dollar for the tissues,” she said. She saw my desperate state and quickly added. “But you can have one for free. Merry Christmas,” I took another but I felt as if I didn’t deserve the tissue.
I left Kilwins colorful atmosphere and reentered the dull white town in which I lived in. My life revolved around Main Street. It was my home.
I went back over to my bench, but a couple had taken my place. They were talking to each other. So instead of interrupting them I walked over to the fountain and sat down on the base. I took out my sketchbook and pencil and began to sketch the boy selling chocolate again. It wasn’t until I looked up to get his hair I realized he had left. Where he had once stood was now an empty stand.
There was a plaque on the fountain. It had always been there. It read: Make a wish and even your wildest dreams will come true.
Yeah right. I then looked around sheepishly and took out a quarter. I closed my eyes and made my wish, whispering it under my breath.
“I wish I had a friend so that we could get a root beer float,” I opened my eyes. I took my pencil and began chucking away the ice that had frozen the fountain’s water solid. I placed my quarter in the small indent I had made and swept the ice shavings over it.
This is stupid, I thought. I went back to drawing in my sketchbook and noticed people had started forming uneven lines around me. I looked up and the man who was selling the hot chocolate was standing there.
“Hello,” he said. He held out his hand. “I’m Duncan.” I took his outstretched hand and shook it.
“I’m Anna,” he smiled and sat next to me. I felt awkward. I was taught to never talk to strangers.
“I noticed that you were drawing me. At first I thought that you were staring at me but I saw you with a pencil and that sketchbook. Can I take a look?” I nodded and handed my sketchbook over to him. He studied the picture for a moment. He looked serious.
“May I?” he asked, lifting up the other pieces of paper. I nodded and he leafed through the rest of the pages of work I had done. He looked somber, thoughtful as he stared at my sketches. I noticed the other people were still standing around in their uneven lines. He handed my sketchbook back to me and smiled.
“Those are very good. Have you taken any lessons?”
“No,” I said. My cheeks felt nuke warm.
“Well you see all these people. They are all here to watch you pursue your talent. Will you finish drawing me? I’ll give you money,”
“How did they know that I liked to draw?” I asked. Duncan smiled.
“They saw you drawing me too. I guess that you were really into your work. That’s a sign of a true artist,”
“I would love to finish the drawing of you,” I said. “But you don’t need to give me any money,” I said regretfully. I was taught to be giving to others. That being greedy was a sin.
“Nonsense little girl,” Duncan said, taking out his wallet. I shook my head.
“I won’t take your money,” I insisted. He frowned and stared thoughtfully into the crowd of people.
“Anna,”
“Yes?” I said looking up at him. He reminded me of my father who had passed recently.
“I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want,”
“Thank you,” I said and began drawing again. I finished with as much technique as I could put into my drawing of Duncan. He was holding a hot chocolate out to a customer, who was handing him money. I handed it to Duncan who had sat next to me, coaching me the whole way through. He stood up and began showing the crowd of people who had stayed.
Their excitable expressions told me that I had done a job well done. I was flattered deeply as Duncan came to sit next to me again.
“Anna,” he said handing me my sketchbook.
“Yes?”
“How about I treat you to a root beer float at Kilwins,” he said. I nodded and stood up with him. As we made our way to Kilwins, our footprints visible in the snow, I glanced back at the fountain and smiled thoughtfully.
I turned back around and sneezed suddenly.
“Bless you,” Duncan said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tissue. He handed it to me and I took it considerately.
That tissue resembled the beginning of our friendship. And I deserved it.
