~ It’s an odd feeling wanting to be understood in an intimate way but at the same time wanting the freedom of being a mystery. Thus, here you have my words, but not my face.

TRIGGER WARNING: IMPLIED SUICIDE AND EMOTIONAL ABUSE

Watching Him Paint

I don’t know how I got here.

I stood in a large, empty, white expanse. 

I looked to my left. I saw nothing.

I looked to my right. Still nothing.

I looked above. Nothing.

I looked below. Absolutely nothing.

I spun around. The void surrounded me.

I stopped spinning. If it weren’t for the pressure I felt on my bare feet, I wouldn’t even think there was a floor. I felt neither hot, nor cold inside the whitespace. I listened, but no sound came to my ears. I sniffed but no smell came to my nose.

What do I do?

“Um, hello?” I asked.

Silence followed. I was beginning to feel rather scared when…

“Hello there.” 

I turned to my left.

Some distance away sat a man on a stool.

How had I not seen him before?

I nervously gripped my wrist in front of me before wincing in pain and softening my grip on my wounded arm.

I cautiously walked towards him. As I came closer, I noticed the pallet and paint brushes in his hand.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I have many titles and many jobs, but right now…I am a painter,” the man replied as took a little bit of paint from his pallet and brushed it onto the canvas he was working on.

Canvas?

Before me was an enormous painting that hadn’t been in the space before.

“I suggest you take a few steps back. It’s even better if you see it in full.”

I glanced at him before stepping a few paces away obediently.

“Whoa…” The word escaped my lips before I could do anything to stop it.

The painting evoked the image of a lush garden overlooking an azure lake with a crystal city visible in the distance.

Each leaf, each blade of grass, was a lush green that exuded more life than I thought possible for paint to show. Each flower was vibrant, carefully designed and better dressed than the fanciest clothing. The fruit on the trees looked ripe and good enough to eat. I could already hear the twitters of the birds that rested in the trees’ branches. I could already see them watching me curiously. The crystal city looked so real and detailed that if I threw a rock at it, I was sure that one of its walls would shatter. The light that danced across the lake and the crystal city was equally breathtaking. The painter had somehow been able to paint the color of sunlight! As if he had somehow captured the sun’s rays and immortalized them on the canvas! Every shade, every shift of hue was carefully crafted together to make something so magnificent!

I stood next to the man once again, still awestruck by the painting.

“It’s almost like I can step right into it…” I said breathlessly, my hand hovering just above the canvas.

“Why don’t you?” the man said with a chuckle.

And like that, suddenly I was pulled in by a warm breeze. What was once a painting, though exquisite beyond words, was a lush and vibrant world around me.

I felt the wind as it blew softly around me carrying the sweet scents of the flowers and fruit. The birds twittered and hopped about. In the distance, the crystal towers of the city peeked out from beyond the trees and reflected the sunlight.

Each one of my senses wanted to weep for the beauty, the magnificence of my surroundings was too much. More than they deserved. More than I deserved.

My sight was fortunate to be able to free itself of its burden. Tears trailed down my pocked cheeks. I thought to wipe them away with my scarred inner wrist, but closing my eyes even for a moment would be doing myself an immense disservice.

“Odd. Before you seemed so intent to be cruel to yourself,” the man said, reading my mind as he walked behind me, ”But now you are kind.”

I looked at the man.

“If you die now, you can never return here,” the man said.

“This place…It’s, it’s….” I gasped, desperate to find words but unable to. The beauty overwhelmed me. What I would give to live in this place forever!

“If you want to come here again, you will have to go back.”

“Go…?” The memories flooded back into my mind. The wounds on my forearm opened up again and blood trickled down my hand on the verdant grass. I began to sob.“No, no! I don’t-!”

“Sh, sh, shhhh….” he said, taking me into his arms and quieting me with his calm voice. He didn’t care about the blood that splattered against him. “I know what you’ve been through. I know you’re in pain, but I don’t want this to be the end for you. There are so many beautiful things I want to show you, but for me to do so…You need to return.”

I wept. I wept until I felt I could drown myself in my tears but when the final tear left my eye, I found myself breathing easier again.

“I’ll go.” I looked at him. “I’ll go.”

“And I’ll be waiting for your return,” he said with a reassuring smile.

Suddenly everything turned to black. I drifted in this all-consuming blackness for a moment before a feeling of sharp coldness overcame me.

“You stupid child! You stupid, stupid child!” she screamed at me.

Weakly, I opened my eyes.

Mother was screaming at me again, but this time we were not in our apartment.

I ignored her screaming and looked at my surroundings. The steady beep of strange equipment, the stark white walls, dull grey tile floor, and sparse furniture. It appeared that I was in a hospital room.

I breathed in the oxygen coming in from the plastic mask on my face. I flexed my palms. I felt my forearm strain beneath my bandages as the muscle movement pulled on my new stitches.

“HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME!”

I turned my attention back to my mother and watched impassively as two nurses tried desperately to restrain her and drag her away from the bed.

This is the situation I came back to… For a moment I regretted my decision.

I turned my head towards the window.

Outside was a cherry tree, its pink blossoms in full bloom and gently kissed by brilliant sunlight.

Each flower, just a hint at what the painter could create.

He said he had so much to show me. I want to see it. If it’s anything like that garden, I want to see it. So…I’ll live. I’ll live so that one day I can return to that place.