Keep it a Secret (Frerard)

Chapter 2- Crayon Drawing

The sky was a glum shade of gray, and would begin to darken soon as the short, winter day came to an end. My mind was racing as I replayed the events from the previous few hours in my head. Something about the strange man, the Artist, captivated my full attention. I couldn’t even imagine the other masterpieces of art he has already created. His sketches were so beautiful, but there was also something else about him that left me in awe. The aura that surrounded him just indicated his greatness.

I for one was never good at art; the one time I took art class in 6th grade was because it was required, and I had almost failed. My unsteady hands were usually what I used as an excuse. Artists needed to have steady, light hands—Things I didn’t have. Practice would surely help any individual improve their skill level, but I was too ashamed to even try and advance my lousy stick figure drawings. I had no confidence in my artistic abilities, so I had already given up trying to draw better years ago despite Marie and Lindsey’s continued urgent persuasion to let them teach me.

 Most people would set goals for themselves in an attempt to become a better person. I have even been forced to create goals for myself based on how I envisioned the person I supposedly wanted to be. If I barely knew myself, how was I expected to know who I wanted to be? “Good” goals needed to have distinct end points. Goals without distinct end points needed to be reconsidered or I would supposedly never achieve them. Or that’s how I was taught to construct goals for myself. It might have just been me, but I felt like nobody had the right to tell me how to become the person I wanted to be when they couldn’t even become the person they wanted to be themselves. How would one identify a good person though? Is a good person someone who accomplished many great achievements or a person with a kind heart who gave back to others? Whichever, I had never met someone who was completely satisfied with themselves.

I was so focused on thinking about the stranger from the park, that I had suddenly stopped paying attention to where I placed my feet. The front of my shoe got caught on a stray rock, and I felt the world around me spin. My sight was just a blur of gray, and my arms flailed in the air as I tried to stay afloat, but I failed miserably. Pain shot through my hands and knees as I slammed forward against the concrete. Blood dripped from my palms onto the cold, dirty concrete as I remained on all fours. A stinging pain spread through my knees, and I winced.

Although I was on the dirty concrete ground, the pain helped me become conscious of my surroundings. My head felt dizzy, but I managed to take in the setting. In the distance, I saw Manda and Ciara happily chatting as they began to walk towards where I was sprawled out. Oh shit. I muttered under my breath and tried to devise a plan to hide from them. It was hard for me to believe school had already finished. I must have lost track of time while I was walking and thinking about the strange artist. I didn’t need another lecture on the consequences of skipping school from Ciara. I was in no mood for any of that, but there was nowhere for me to run. It was too late. I closed my eyes and braced myself.

An earsplitting shriek echoed through the street. I let out a heavy sigh as Manda gawked at me, her jaw dropped. “What the hell are you doing?” Ciara demanded. I opened my mouth to speak, but Ciara wasn’t waiting for my answer. “Where have you been? Why weren’t you at school? You need to cut this shit out, Frank. You know this isn’t right,” Ciara glared at me. I nodded my head, not really listening to her rant. I had more important things to deal with. Manda snapped out of her state of shock. “What happened to your hands!?” She spat out. My attention was drawn once again to the blood dripping down the concrete. “I uh—fell,” I muttered. Manda’s expression was still dazed.

“Well, are you going to get up?” Ciara hissed at me. Slowly, I began to remove myself from the ground. My knees straightened and I winced at the burning sensation rupturing through my muscles. Once I was fully standing, I threw my crimson stained hands up. “Happy?” I smirked. Ciara only turned her nose up at me. I chuckled and rolled my eyes at her. “Well, I’ll be on my way…” I started to walk away from the two girls who were my only friends. The stinging pain radiated through my body with each step.