A/N: Sorry, this is a medium size update but hopefully better than nothing. I do have the next chapter roughly written I just need to expand on some parts and proof read, but I am hoping to get that one up shortly after.Thank you,
-Helium
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In the early morning hours of school, long before most my fellow students arrived to begin the last few days of classes of their high school lives... I began to paint.
I began to paint the end of it all. The last chapter of this book, of this story... of this mural.
A story about hatred and revenge.
I struggled for a moment, blending the gray paint I was shrouding around the iris of this figure's eyes. The steel gaze was painted coldly; almost emotionlessly. A sharp grin, like a blade of self-loathing, stretched upon his lips.
It whispered something so false.... Yet I knew what was underneath.
The image of Hayden. How many times had I drawn him? Sketched him? Captured his likeliness and emotions in the thousands of pages....
Yet still my hands trembled. My fingers felt weak.
"It's okay." His voice said softly from behind me and I jolted suddenly on the ladder. I had forgotten Hayden was below me as I finished this last part. He was supporting the ladder, immediately leaning firmly into it when I jerked slightly.
"Alys..." He ground his teeth a slightly, "Please don't jump like that."
"I didn't mean to." I said embarrassed back, looking back into the face of the painted figure. "I... just lost myself."
"I know." he said softly.
Together, I'm sure, our thoughts went down the same path. Mania. A side effect of some mental disorders. Perhaps ones I inherited from my father. Losing yourself in something; feeling like you were high on drugs in its creation.
But that was not what was happening though. I simply just got lost. Lost in sadness. Lost in regret. Lost in a dozen what-ifs.
"Lost in you." My words were quiet.
If he heard, he didn't react to it. Instead, he held the ladder firmly. I could feel the counter pressure as I moved a little to the left, gently overlaying the silver tone into the painted eyes again. After a few minutes more. It was done.
The scene was done.
I gripped the top of the ladder, ready to descend. But I froze long enough to stare at my creation as a whole. Hayden was painted accurately to his age and appearance now, though when Tucker died, he would have been 14 or 15. But I knew it didn't matter, he actually preferred a more accurate image so no one would misunderstand it was him up there.
In this mural, he was receiving a handshake from the Governor, accepting the deal that would cover the death of Tucker. The Governor's face was etched with a cold smile as well. His hand gripping tightly to Hayden's own. I painted the shadows on the indentations in his skin, whether Hayden realized it or not, to show the painful force in which they struck a deal.
Surrounding them were dozens of real documents plastered in; newspaper clippings, emails, minor funding reports, condemning correspondences he had sent to Mrs. Campbell, our principal. We didn't have the means to crack or reveal all he had done as Governor; we could only show this one at least. He denied the laws that would have helped foster kids due to the State having no finances to spare. He had approved and embezzled money into this school for a massive stadium that he could run for another term again- standing on a glorified stage of sins, wrapped up like a present to a school that hardly deserved it. And unknown to the most the world, he also helped cover up the death of Tucker. He helped sweep away the sins of the Russel family, leaving all the guilt and blame on Hayden though this was not perused. But the Governor was not the only one truly guilty....

YOU ARE READING
The Insanity of a Wallflower
RomanceI draw the people I hate at school. I hear the gossip, I hear the lies but I draw what my own eyes see. And I see the embarrassing, devastating, beautiful secrets my peers all try to hide. I have quite the collection of their paradoxes; a sketchbook...