Devils and Demons

Chapter 11

I'm curled up at the base of the tree. Tears stained my cheeks. It had been a long time, that much I knew because my body told me I had been laying here a long time.

I stand up. I needed to paint. I walk around until I find somewhere that is vaguely familiar. I follow the overgrown path until I find the log I hide my paint bag in.

Luckily no one found it, so I pick it up and walk to the fort. People were going to be there. I wanted to kill them, but it would be too suspicious if a bunch of teenagers just disappeared. 

I walk to the fort and look around before going in. No one was here. I touch the walls. These were familiar because this is where I lived with Mom.

I look at the ground. The middle of the place. When there was walls and stuff in it, she died in the middle. Now that there was nothing she would have been a few feet from the right top corner.

I sign quietly and walk up to the wall. It didn't look like anyone did anything. Well, nothing to the art. There was trash and a stain on the couch.

I think I have an extra paint can for emergencies in a different floorboard. Well, I needed black. I think I kept extra black for occasions like these.

Well, I had hoped it would never get to this, but my luck was screwed so nothing new. I kneel down and pick up the floorboard.

When Mom and I lived here the floorboards were nailed in. Now they just laid on the floor beams leaving gaps in-between.

I go through my extra stock of paint cans. Sure enough, I have black. Good thing too because I was going to need it. I pick up the gray can first.

I spray back and forth over a different painting so I could have a base. Then I start. Let's see what should I paint now?

I go for the black and make a few lines. I made the top one a little bigger and then bend it like a hand. I go with the hand idea and make one, but the fingers stretch longer than they should.

I cover the hole of the can with my finger a little and spray the shape of a little body. Making it look like the long hand was holding the body. Dangling them. I uncover the hold and spray probably too much paint on the person.

It drips down completing the look of the painting. I move on. I keep painting. Doing the inside of the building because I had yet to redo the entire inside. Then I can redo the entire outside again.

"You shouldn't run this time"

I stop painting. That was the voice of one of the two people who found the fort that night. The boy came last time. I look at my half finished explosion.

I look at the  new boy. I kneel down and pack all the paint into the bag. I take off my mask and put it in before zipping it back up.

"I was wondering when you would be back. Because by the looks of it, you come here a lot." The boy says.

I don't answer and put the bag over my head. The boy comes closer and sticks his hand out.

"My name's Scott. Scott Cross."

I look at the hand debating if I should shake it. I decide not to but I nod at him.

"I'm guessing your mute?" He says. I nod.

"Well, I was wondering if you'd like to join my school club. It's an art one. We do stuff like this, but we don't vandalize things. It's in a classroom"

To say I'm surprised is an understatement. I did not expect an invitation of any sort to anything. I should go back to school but I hate it. Scott leaves and I'm left alone with my thoughts.