Young Writers Society

The remainder of her escape proceeded unhindered. Upon arrival at the site the tension of fury was released from her neck and she was able to let go of the meaningless comments. At once she set to mixing paints and began to lay the foundation of her painting. Concentrated on her task as she was, she felt nothing but bliss, and was aware of nothing other than the slow blossoming of her vision. It was a soreness in her elbows and back that dragged her from the trance, early darkness had enveloped the world as she worked, but with a glance at her watch, she found that it was only 7 o’clock and so not only had she not broken curfew but she may even make it for diner. A single bobby pin had been shoved into her bangs to keep them from her eyes, now she put it to use jimmying open the door to hide the paints.

It was in a mood much improved from that of the day before, that she stepped into her house. Greeted by the smell of seasoned chicken she followed her nose to the dining room where her parents and sister sat.

“Hi, sorry I’m late.” When it was only stunned silence and vacant eyes that answered her, she invited herself to sit. “Smells really good mom, can you spare a leg?”

Wordlessly her mother served her some chicken and a heap of vegetables. Soon the three resumed their usual evening chatter. Jealousy soon shattered her good mood as she saw the way her parents beamed at their perfect daughter; popular, satisfactory grades, boyfriend at fourteen, student council secretary, extra curricular fanatic. Kaia herself had never been the child her mother had wanted she kept to herself and hated even the art classes she had taken to appease her mother. On her own she excelled in what she did, in academics and the world of creativity she was at home.

What bugged her more perhaps, than even the way her parents dotted on their “baby” was that it did bother her so much. “My God” she thought to herself in horror “I’m turning into one of those teenagers who hates their family just because they are hormonal and nobody’s parents can be the angelic people I seem to expect my own to be”. However her internal dialogue seemed to do little to stifle the angry heat that built in her cheeks and made her want to scream – rather selfishly—of her own accomplishments in life, and of her own validity.

The following morning she beat the rest of her family to the rise. Dawn had just begun to sort itself out as the kettle boiled. Kaia had set off for the day, with thermos and sandwich in hand, by the time the rest of her family began to show signs of life. Then she caught sight of the newspaper on the front porch. Beneath the elastic band was a story regarding the building she had adopted as her new canvas. A fist of guilt clenched around her gut as she scanned the article that explained the building had been built for a new community center and had been funded entirely by private donations. “A fresh coat of paint will be all it needs; it isn’t set to open till the end of the summer. By that time I can have finished, taken a Polaroid and made a donation worth the price of enough paint to cover the mural, besides I’ve already started the damage is done.” Her train of thought eventually appeased her raging guilt and regret.

The rest of the day passed much as the former had. Yet the simple bliss she had felt the day before was somewhat marred by the impending sense of anxiety at the thought of an unexpected visitor allured by the article who wished to see it first hand. However no such visitor arrived and Kaia found herself shaking her head over her own silliness. Satisfied with her progress, she made it home once more in time for the family diner. Again the delicious meal was marred by the unsettling sense of sitting amidst strangers but this time she was determined not to let her euphoria disappear. To bed early she set her alarm to go off at six.

The crisp morning air greeted her as she nearly skipped down the deserted street. Being the only one awake in the whole town she walked confidently down the middle of the road. Another three days of painting and early mornings found Kaia standing before a completed mural. A great sense of melancholia overwhelmed her as she took out her camera and snapped a few shots of what she had done. It was not that he new it would have to be destroyed; she had long since made peace with that fact, but that it was over. This project had made her happy as nothing else ever had, perhaps even because she knew that no other person would ever see it, she had really done the mural for herself and she had the odd sense as the kind of abstract self portrait stared back, it was more an expression of who she was and what she believed than she would ever be able to articulate.

It felt oddly draining to create something with a depth incomprehensible even to the one from whom it had been born, especially to that one. As the paint brush was lowered Kaia was uncertain; of what she had created, whether it be good or bad, what exactly she had been left feeling, and whether or not she wanted to go on feeling that way. Concerning this last unspoken question the choice was taken from her as a rudely barking dog broke what could only have been described as a trance.

As though to commemorate the moment of farewell she signed the wall, a thing she had long since decided not to indulge in herself, the signature was her own but illegible to any who did not know it. Signed but anonymous, she smiled at the irony. For the last time Kaia made her way down the shoreline to the beach, the money and a donation of all her unused paint had been left for the volunteers of the community center to repaint the wall.

Another supper threatened to pass in much the same insipid manner as the others. Saddened as she had been that afternoon she now felt clean and purified.

“Anything exciting happen today?” an innocent enough question, she cringed internally at its lack of originality, but her father jumped at the invitation to converse.

“Not much for me but your mother made a lovely pie that we may be able to coax out of her for desert.” His statement, perhaps a tad overly cheerful, was accompanied by a conspirational wink just like when she was young. She smiled unguardedly at her father and even managed to ask her sister if she had any plans for the approaching weekend.

“I’ve been invited to a party at Jason’s friend’s house.”

Kaia looked from one parent to the other but it seemed this had already been made known to them. “Who’s Jason?”

This was answered with a very dark glare from her sister, who then proclaimed; “He’s only been my boyfriend for the past week and a half. No one ever listens to me!” she sounded like some bad actress straight out of a sitcome.

When it seemed obvious that the exclamation would be quickly followed by a dramatic exit their mother intervened with a hand over that of her younger child.

“Now dear, Kaia was just trying to show an interest.” Her eyes illuminated like those of a predator as an idea occurred to her, “Perhaps your sister would like to tag along for the party, and after all she has no plans.”

Kaia smiled politely as she felt the dig of her mother’s comment, she was about to decline the invitation when interrupted by her sister.

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t invite her to the party if you paid me, she’s such a freak!”

“I’m going for a walk.” And Kaia was gone, leaving behind a befuddled father, a purse lipped mother, and a smug sister.