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Seeing Between the Paint
Painting pictures wasn’t as hard as looking at it, the lines and colors mixing together into one beautiful painting, or so everyone thought. Not for me though, I hated painting, every little line was a scar to me. Though I painted it myself, couldn't’t stand to see my work when it was finished, so I burned what I could. I wished I could stop but something always brought me back, maybe the magic within me, or maybe it was my girlfriend Sofia, who always fussed about how I had a talent and I should use it to earn money, which in New York City was a big thing to have. Yes, I had a talent, but it was not a good talent, I could paint wonderful, dark pictures but it always ended up happening. I could paint the future and that’s what scared me the most that I would paint a loved one dying but could never stop it. It happened to my mother, and to my brother, both so warm and happy but cold and dead on the page before me. Sofia didn’t know about that, though if she did she would use it to gain more money.
“Darling Eric, the art museum has an opening so I told them you would put some of your artwork there to display.” Sofia’s voice rang out through the apartment.
“Sofia, you know I don’t like people seeing my artwork!” I sighed and rested his head against my hands.
“I don’t know why not, you’re so good, and you could make an excellent living.”
“I just don’t want too, aren’t you suppose to want me to be happy?”
“I do, but if this is what your good at then why not use it to your advantage? Go ahead just try to paint something right now, it’s not that hard.”
I sighed and rubbed my temples as she stood there staring at me and I finally started to paint the picture in vivid color, beautiful greens and blues, not the regular red and black like always. Sofia huffed her approval and left the room, I probably would have stopped but couldn't’t, I didn’t want to. I suddenly I stopped, I closed my eyes not wanting to look at who was going to die this time but something made me open my eyes and as I did I gasped. The most beautiful woman I had ever seen was smiling and her eyes were lit up. Her black hair which was up in a pony tail gave me a full look at her face. Her pale skin went well with her dark blue eyes and soft pink lips, she was perfect.
The background was of a park, the Bryant Park. She appears to be eating lunch, a sandwich in her hands and a paper bag beside her. I don’t understand why I painted this though; normally it’s of someone dying. In the background though, I saw a dark figure behind a tree, and he was staring at the beautiful young woman and I felt a since of dread like always when I know someone’s about to die.
I threw the painting to the ground and rushed out the door, Sofia calling my name in annoyance. I was not going to let this woman die; I won’t let anything bad happen to her, ever. I was panting by the time I reached the park which was only ten minutes away from my apartment complex and when I saw her beautiful face I sighed in relief.
It was short lived though as I got nearer the man from the painting popped out from behind the tree and attacked her, covering her mouth with his hand. I rushed at him and jumped on his back making him fall to the ground with a thud. It must have been a hard fall because he was knocked unconscious. I turned to the woman who looked at the man on the ground in fright and she was holding her wrist.
“Are you alright, Miss?” I said as I grabbed her wrist softly to look at it.
“Yes, yes, thanks to you anyway. It will bruise but it could have been a lot worse.” She smiled at me and I felt my heart race.”How did you know? I am in a secluded area, my own little get away; no one could have seen what was happening.” She stepped back again in fear and I sighed.
“You don’t have to be scared, I did save you.”
“Yes, I guess you did.”She smiled again and I knew that Sofia wouldn’t be a problem ever again after tonight when we talked. I called the police and once they had him in cuffs, I rushed over to the woman who was just getting done talking to the medic.
“So, I just lied and said that you were meeting me here for lunch, so you owe me the truth.” She eyed me over and I smiled an innocent smile and when that did not work I sighed.
“It’s a long story, but before that I think you should know my name, its Eric, and I am an artist.” I said as I took her hand and led her to the bench that she was sitting on before the accident happened.
“My name is Lilly, and I am a grade school teacher.”
“Well Lilly, it starts with this, ‘Painting a picture isn’t as hard as looking at it, the lines and colors mixing together into one beautiful painting, so everyone thought…’