|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 19:21:11 GMT -5
"I gotta go take a shower..." Actually he really felt like painting. But he didn't want to tell her because he knew he wouldn't want to show her.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 19:24:15 GMT -5
She winced, hurt. But nodded. "O--okay. I--I'll see you tomorrow, then..."
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 19:27:00 GMT -5
Skittery managed to keep it together until he got to the thankfully empty attic. He was up half the night, painting and crying. Crying and painting. The end result was dark an gloomy and sad and just really, really depressing. Moreso than any of his other paintings before this.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 19:29:22 GMT -5
Maggie didn't sleep that night. Just lay in bed, playing with her bracelet. She wanted everything to just go away. To end.
She had the fleeting thought of taking those pain pills in the cabinet, all of them...then felt guilty.
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 19:51:24 GMT -5
Skittery came down the next morning, bleary eyed and tired. He stopped in the infirmary to check on Maggie. This was all becoming routine now.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 19:55:00 GMT -5
Maggie was sitting up in bed, hugging her knees to her chest.
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 20:20:18 GMT -5
"Need anything before I go sell?" he asked, stifling a yawn.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 20:22:07 GMT -5
She needed him, that's what she needed. But all she said was, "No. And--and you should go out tonight. It's Friday."
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 20:27:01 GMT -5
He just nodded. He would go out, but not with anyone else. He would go out like he had been going out for the past week or so. And he continued on for another week. And another. Sulking and crying and painting. It wasn't pretty.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 20:29:17 GMT -5
It was another two weeks, just like the ones before. Maggie had finally gone back to the bunk room, though she avoid most everyone. She's stopped going to church. No amount of praying seemed to help.
It was a cold, rainy winter night, and Maggie was in bed, as always. She hardly ever went anywhere else.
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 20:35:06 GMT -5
As usual, Skittery was up in the attic. He had just discovered that he was out of black, gray, and dark blue paint. And he had no money to go buy more. So he conceded and started painting with red. It was still a pretty sad color, wasn't it? Like the color of blood. Yeah, that would do.
But his brush had been tinted so darkly from the last couple weeks of painting that the red turned more ruby that blood red. Which made him think of Maggie's ruby bracelet. And he almost smiled. So he painted some more, but with yellow this time. And the yellow looked so warm...like how he felt whenever he kissed her or whenever she smiled at him or whenever he just looked at her. So he continued on.
And before he knew it, Skittery had painted something that was distinctly Maggie. Warm, bright hues that were just a bit muted. It wasn't necessarily a happy painting, but it wasn't sad either. All of a sudden he found himself rushing to the girls' bunk room.
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 20:37:51 GMT -5
Maggie still looked pale, and her hair was limp. She'd lost some wait because she hadn't been eating right. She had moved from her bed to sit on the window ledge, looking out. She didn't even notice Skittery come in.
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 20:39:11 GMT -5
There was something in Skittery's eyes that had been noticeably absent the last few weeks. He rushed over to Maggie, sitting down next to her.
"Hey, I have something to show you."
|
|
|
|
Post by Script on Dec 29, 2011 20:41:13 GMT -5
She turned to him, blinking, surprised. "I--what is it?"
|
|
|
|
Post by Skittery on Dec 29, 2011 20:44:28 GMT -5
"It's a surprise," he said, a small, almost unnoticeable smile pulling at his lips. It was a strange feeling after being grim faced and emotionless around her for so long. He held out his hand for her.
|
|
