I am so nervous, yet so excited. I am showing my painting in the school's art exhibition, which I had only been a part of in my dreams. I looked over at the stage, and there it was. In full glory, overlooking all the others, two majestic blue and purple butterflies encircling a pretty blossoming cherry tree with the moonlight silhouetting the background. I hate to admit it, but for once, I was nervous. Not dead-nervous, but butterflies-in-your-stomach-type nervous (pun not intended) because I'm doubtful if everyone will enjoy it. I kept sneaking looks at the exhibition, to look at my painting. I observed that even though it was kept in the corner everyone was still marvelling at it. I know I'm being anything but humble, but I'm so proud of this painting and I feel so much better with the knowledge that others appreciate it as well. It's not much, but I hold it quite close to my heart. I resolve to stop glancing at it over and over again, for I am confident by now that the others are enjoying it.
When the exhibition is over, I go and find my teachers on the other side of the platform. They all compliment my painting, and I enjoy being the center of attention for a few minutes before excusing myself to take my painting back. I walk to the other side of the big room and find the painting is missing. My heart skips a beat, but I manage to calm down. I ask around if anyone has seen or taken my painting and they all say no. I can't help but panic now, and all the teachers immediately notice that something's wrong and come to my aid. I explain the situation to them and they ask the students if any of them took it. I couldn't get myself to believe any of the students in my school would steal anything. The teachers try to calm me down as I'm on the verge of tears. I prayed with all my heart that the person who took it would have the heart to give it back. The teachers were worried sick and one of them asked me to calm down and that it's just a painting but by now I'm sobbing uncontrollably. I'm not one to cry typically, but I couldn't hold it in this time. "You don't know how much that painting means to me." I said. They all seemed a bit confused but went back to soothing me.
After calming down (with the help of the staff muttering comforting words), the school dispersed for the bell. My best friend, Louis, was waiting next to my locker (as always), with a worried expression on his face. Our lockers all have the same combination: 0000 because we're still in lower secondary and custom codes are only for upper secondary. I mumbled a hello and grabbed my music book before turning to face him. I could tell he was going to ask me something, and I was proven right the next second. "Who do you think must have stolen it, Emms?" he asked. "I don't know, Lou", I shrugged, "But I know someone did, 'm not that oblivious." He seemed thoughtful for a second, before saying "Reckon it's someone we know?". "I doubt it, but it could be." I answered. After that we said nothing and headed straight for the class.
Music class was great today. The sound of the meaningful rhythms always calms me down. I walk out of the classroom, with an almost free mind. I head to the bus stop with a lighter heart. Lou and I talk about sports, music, singers and so on. He must have seen how upset I was about my painting being stolen, so he avoids the topic for the trip. We finally reach the main building and then get on our bus for the ride home. He asks me if I'm ok, and I respond that I am. After that, we sit in comfortable silence.
When we reached my place, I waved goodbye to Lou. He returns the farewell. I don't even bother ringing the doorbell because I know that no one will be there. I enter the alphabet-number combination to open the door. I place my bag down and remember I have to write a speech and present it next week. I check what the topic is and find it to be 'little things. I immediately understand what it means and start writing a speech from the bottom of my heart. I felt that opening up would be helpful. After an hour or two, I am finished and re-read the speech. I have a good feeling about it.
***
Hello y'all! I hope you liked this! Pls read on if you did 💞
~Naomi
YOU ARE READING
The Stolen Painting
General Fiction"Yours sincerely, A good friend." I folded the note and neatly placed it in my pocket. That day I went home, feeling complete.
