When Everything Changes

Chapter 6

The next morning, I was out of bed before 6. I didn't sleep.

Instead, I lay awake all night thinking of my old friend turned new... enemy? No, as my mother would say, I'm exaggerating.

Xav's just a minor inconvenience. Nothing to get worked up over. Soon he'll be back in Florida, hanging out with his actual friends. And I'm betting they're just as bright and cheery as he is.

Ahh, sarcasm. My old friend.

A phrase my parents would jokingly repeat to each other often. 

I push those thoughts away, refusing to dredge up the past right now. I've got plans this morning. I look out the window to see a dark sky, the sun barely peaking over the horizon. A faint glow of grey and yellow.

This cold, dreary morning.

I sigh at the scene before me. I'm not against winter, but I definitely prefer the other seasons. I'm partial to summer, with a warm, bright sun. Tall, vast trees. Wild animals free from hibernation, wandering the countryside. Winter just made me sad. It's dark, and gloomy, and cold. Still, it makes for great still-lifes. And landscapes. Grabbing a pair of clothes from the closet, I make my way to the shower. I turn the water all the way to hot, knowing the rest of the house won't be up for a while. The McLeod's like to sleep in, something I've never really done. But it always gave me an advantage over everyone on school mornings.

After my shower, I dress in a fleece hoodie and Nike workout shorts. It's Sunday morning. I'm not going anywhere today.  

I've always loved painting the sunrise. It was magical, even in the winter. Something about the break of dawn. Night melting into day. A transition of time. A fresh start.

I don't have my paints with me, so I'd have to settle with my sketchpad and charcoals. It should work out fine, there isn't much color out there these days anyway.

I grab a blanket to throw on over my clothes as I step outside on the back porch and wait for the silver break of dawn. I sit on the top step of the porch, breathing in the cool air, relaxing in the quiet of the early morning. Art has always given me a sense of peace. Like the eye of the storm for me. The first light began threading through the sky a little before 8 am, bringing a real smile to my face. The first genuine moment of happiness I've had since the funeral. Charcoal to pad, I began sketching out what I see, barely looking down as my hand glides across the paper with a worn piece of charcoal. It's cloudy today, so the glow from the sun is faint across this part of the earth. Casting a hazy blueish-gray color over our small-town sky, such a beautiful color. I wish I had my oil paints with me. I'd love to try and mix this unique color.

I finish the sketch, similar to so many others I've drawn. A simple drawing, never takes very long at all. Still, it's the perfect way for me get the day started. I stare into the distance and again, I am calm.

I close my eyes and listen to the earth wake up around me. Birds chirping nearby, cars going down the road, the drivers off to work. Peaceful, familiar sounds.

Peaceful, familiar sounds interrupted by a grade-A jerk.

I hear Xavier curse behind me. "What the hell are you doing out here so early?" He says. "It's fucking cold."

Turning my head, I see him glaring at me. Like it's this major inconvenience for him the I'm out here. Rolling my eyes, I turn away, replying "I've got this blanket. Pretty cozy." 

In reality, it had been really cold out, even with the blanket, though I wasn't going to let him know that. Besides, the cold doesn't bother me so much anymore.