Preview....
“Jane, Marybelle, come here! I have a present for you....” Your mother yells From downstairs.
Your sister goes downstairs while you take your time and finish your favorite song. You got off your bed and walk down the flight of stairs.
You see your sister there already. She was holding something. A painting. You were always the person to like art. You loved it, yet you never let them see your art. Only your maid does, and even so she keeps her mouth shut. No one else but you and her enter your room.
It was a painting. Very beautiful indeed. You looked at with a sparkle in your eye, shining away. You saw the signature at the bottom. It was from your favorite artist. They were unknown but you knew it better than anyone else that that was their signature. They were the only one who could do it, no machine or man , but them, could do it. You looked at you mother as she smiled brightly.
“That is for you, Jane. Now, this is for you, Marybelle.” I turned to look at her, in hopes that I could get a painting like Jane. My hope was too high, I looked at the bowl in front of me. It was plain and clear.
“Why can’t I have a painting like Jane’s?” I asked my mother. For the first time in months, last time I spoke was back when it was the royal ball.
“Well you don’t like art so I got you that.”
I look down, ready to turn away and forget about it.
But mother only spoke again, “Well unless Jane wants to give it up.” I looked at Jane. She looked at the bowl in distaste.
“I could give you one of my other paintings.” She said to me. I just looked back down.
“You know Jane, keep it. You deserve it, I mean your the favorite. I get it, you deserve better, while I stand in the back looking for a way to be close. But no, it’s just distance. I got it, you don’t like me. Don’t worry I won’t get in your way. You’ll never have to feel the need to satisfy the people around you. You’ll never feel what it’s like to have your thoughts eat you alive and cry at night thinking about how much the world would be better off without you. You don’t have the need to scream to let out your sadness. You don’t have to know what it feels like to grab something and cut your skin because you don’t like the way your body looks. I get it, I get it, you don’t care, or I’m being dramatic. You don’t fucking care.” I say to them, and dropping the bowl. Watching as it shatters into pieces, just like my dreams and hopes. I grab a piece and grip it. I feel the shard pierce into my palm. I don’t scream, because I have no more pain. I have nothing.....
I look mother straight in the eye, “And maybe if you actually cared, you would have known that I love art. ”
I turn away, blood dripping onto the ground. And as I walk away my mother and the others stay in shock. While my father enters the room calling for me to get back there. While I leave and enter my room. I look at my masterpieces. I fell down gripping my shirt in my bloody hand, and my tears falling. I muffle my sobs with my other hand.
But a voice in my heads keeps telling me, “Why are you crying? There not going to do anything, so why? There aren’t going to come running up here and comfort you. They aren’t going care.”
The saddest thing though, was that it was true....
My door—
CUT!!!
As you can see, this is a preview of one of my upcoming books, this 2021!
Any opinions? So I can know to release it or no?
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Please ignore any mistakes...
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STREAM DYNAMITE!!! 💜
