>> After one week
I stand up from my chair as the teacher calls my name. I walk to the front of the class. I take a deep breath and speak from what I memorized.
"Respected teachers and my dear friends,
In our lives, we'll always face some sort of life-changing event which makes us realise how much we take for granted. We all hold something, something trivial close to heart, to remind us that every day. For me, one such thing was the painting of the two butterflies. That painting meant so much to me. My dad had given the idea and my mom had painted me an abstract version of my more detailed one. They had both loved my painting and had given me the idea to submit it for my school's exhibition. I was ecstatic about getting in, but when I realised the painting had been stolen, I felt my world coming crashing down. You see, painting that with my parents was one of the happiest moments of my life. But it meant even more to me, now that my mother's sick. My parents were always busy with work and almost never came home, and the night we painted that was one of the few when they were both free. My parents still don't come home, but now it's because my mother is in the hospital, and my dad is by her side." I pause.
"I couldn't visit because it is too risky to expose me to the harmful elements." I continue, "but I finally realize how much something so simple can mean to me. But in order to truly understand the painting, you must understand the significance of the butterflies. My mother's nickname for me has always been 'butterfly' as they have such a short life span yet they live each second to the fullest. They radiate life, happiness, light and freedom. They make everything around them glow and blossom. A mere painting, with such a minute, almost negligible creature having such a great significance in our lives shows how much the most seemingly insignificant things can mean to us. After all, It's the little things in life which become a part of you." I finish my speech.
I look around to see everyone somewhat overwhelmed. Lou is looking at me with a lot of mixed emotions: happiness, pride, sadness and worry. I give him a small smile (which he returns) before returning to my seat. After a few more people speak, the bell rings and we race for lunch.
***
P.S Hope you enjoyed!
💖
~ 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.
