Hi names 22Midnight
hope your doing well, let's get into it!
First Impression: I'm guessing there has been a little time skip so that this can properly get going because it definitely didn't happen the next day, so nice to see her embracing her true talent, she must be nerves though.
My stomach fluttered with butterflies, each generating a surge of tension that quickened my pulse. I stepped into the brightly lit room and smelled the aroma of oil paints–this was my first official painting class, despite spending most of my life with a paintbrush in hand. The room’s farthest wall was one large window, granting its witness a magnificent view of the gardens below. Nature’s exuberance unfurled in petals from diverse plants–its palette of vermillion roses, sapphire irises, and emerald leaves reaching upward, glistening in the morning dew.
this was such a beautiful start to the chapter, it was easy to pick up that there had been a little time skip since the last chapter
one easy spelling error to fix is vermillion it should be spelt only with on l like this vermilion
I sat at an easel near the view, and as I placed my backpack on the floor, my body shifted immediately. My shoulders tensed up as I saw Zeke enter the room. I never expected to see him again, especially not in an art class. As he gazed at me, my eyes widened. I felt a tightness in my chest as my breath caught in my throat. My skin tingled with heightened sensitivity as if invisible fingers traced a path along my arms and neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. As our eyes met, a rush colored my cheeks, a silent confession of the turmoil within. His lips curled in a playful upturn, but his gaze and smile darted away as quickly as it appeared.
so this is love nananana XD yes finally there he is the man that I think and hope that she is meant to really be with. but this is not a good time for day dreaming what's the class going to think?
My hands were stuck, frozen until someone beside me swatted them, and a familiar voice snapped my attention back. Nadine called, “Hello! Earth to Abigail!”
She roughly tossed her backpack on the floor, shuffling with the set-up before her.
and Nadine ruins a moment but at the same time might safe her from humiliation so kudos to her for showing up at he perfect time
“Lately, I’ve been wanting to try painting, and I figured it was time to unleash my inner artist.” She tossed her twisted black hair behind her shoulder. Her long brown legs slinked out, one ankle crossed over the other. She had one arm draped over the chair behind her, poised.
I'm interested to see how this goes, Nadine is funny she has got such a bubbly personality and never seems to not make me laugh a bit
“Don’t expect me to give up my project for teaching you how to paint when you struggle.”
She smacked the air playfully. “Oh, please, time to dip my toes in paint, as they say. It can’t be that difficult.”
Nadine i've tried it's very difficult if you want to actually do it properly. Abigail you be a good teacher now and be gentle with your friend
I began setting up my station, my head tilting back as I laughed. “Nobody says that! How will I ever teach your newbie ass?”
“Hey, I am no newbie,” she scoffed as I watched her suspiciously. “Okay, yeah… so I am.” She shrugged, taking off her jacket and revealing her boho-patterned maxi dress.
I rolled my eyes, amazed at her shameless ability to pursue her interests. “Maybe I can’t sit back and watch you struggle.”
XD it's the dress of desperation, now how long as she been planning that, this is giving me a lot of laughs which is needed at the moment real nice job.
Before I could respond, the professor, Ms. Sanderson, began the class, and we became engrossed in the creative process. Ms. Sanderson had gray pixie-cut hair and thick black glasses, overpowering her animated expressions. She explained her journey as an artist, encouraging us to paint what we desired, insisting there are no rules in art. My brush glided across the canvas, bringing life to the shapes in my mind. Amidst the chaotic mix of colors and shapes, I alone grasped the hidden logic. My eyes narrowed with intensity, and a profound serenity filled me as I ignored my troubles.
i see now so she isn't the one teaching like a thought at the beginning she is just a student as well no time skip then in that case, maybe try in the future to make this more clear because it did come of as though Abigail was teaching the class.
None the less that's amazing that she feels so wonderful when she paints just letting go of everything around her.
Isadora texted me, disrupting my peace, almost as if foreshadowing my demise, as the professor dismissed us for a brief break.
Abigail, I need to tell you something.
I read over it several times, trying to collect myself. Eventually, I responded with, ‘What?’
Father found your paintings. He is asking questions. He and Mom have been fighting all morning. This is worse than before.
No why, this isn't good but Isadora is a good sister for warning her before she comes home and walks into chaos. I so wish that her father would understand her more and be happy for with the talent that she has that she is embracing in.
My heart sank in panic. ‘He didn’t touch them, right? What are they fighting about?’
No, I don’t think he did, but he’s furious. He says you should focus on your studies and forget about that nonsense. Mom was quick to defend you, of course. She hid them before he did anything, I think.
come on can't you see how talented your daughter is, at least her mothers nice and he didn't get to do anything to her lovely paintings.
Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. My efforts to please him were constant, always striving to meet the expectations of being a Winslow, but art remained my own. I sighed as I walked back into class, texting, ‘I won’t do that. It’s part of who I am.’
I know. He isn’t taking this lightly, and I don’t know how to talk to him. I keep waiting for the right moment, and watching Mom get nowhere isn’t encouraging, either.
OMG this is so sad to see how oblivious he is to the things that make his daughter so happy and all the potential that she has with this gift.
I did not text her back. On the one hand, I yearned to follow my dreams and embrace my true self, but on the other, I felt pressured to conform to the rigidity expected of me. If I told him about my project, he might appreciate my goals.
As I finished my painting, my mind felt tangled in a web, like the oiled colors in the abstract figure on my canvas. My paintbrush slowly trailed out with a final touch. At last, I finished my piece: a silhouetted figure of a woman throwing her head back, with her hair splayed out.
I really hope that she doesn't tell him, because that might make him more angry because he is bad at understanding anything that he doesn't want. I bet that the painting she just finished looks as wonderful as her personality is
Overall: This was a lovely chapter to read I really felt like you got me hooked with this one. Abigail father sounds awful i don't know how anyone could live with a person like that and then grow up in it to.
anyway that's it from me
hope you have a great dawn/dusk/midnight
See Ya
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