The Sketchpad

Introduction

A small house sat on a small lawn, lush and green from spring rains. The lawn was thick and the color of an evergreen pine tree, and the house was a pale yellow. Inside, blue walls and and yellow and brown furniture and decorations populated the small yellow house. From the front door, various rooms branched out. A kitchen, a dining room, a family room. From the family room, a staircase led up to a second floor that held bedrooms and a bathroom. Inside the large, plush family room, a television set from 2001 sat in front of two armchairs and a fairly new couch.

A teenage girl lounged on the navy couch, head propped up by a pillow. Her feet stretched to the other end, and her long, thin arms lay limp at her sides. No, she wasn't dead, or sleeping, but she may as well have been. For three hours Alex (whose real name was Alexandra,) had been lying there in the same position, watching "Orange is the New Black" reruns on Netflix. 

The sound of bare feet on the hardwood floor stirred her from her half-awake state, and Alex turned her head slowly. "Who?" She grumbled groggily.

"Honey, how long have you been sitting like that?" A voice replied, sounding concerned. The voice matched the person: not too assertive, but with an air of superiority that could be heard below the tones of motherly concern and responsibility. The woman, Alex's mother, padded over to the couch in thick socks and looked down at her daughter, sprawled on the upholstery. 

"I don't know. One hour, maybe? Something like that." Alex blinked and stood up, the small blanket falling onto the floor as she stretched. "Not that long." She shook out her shoulder-length hair, freshly dyed a pale green, and yawned. She looked at her mother again, with her head tilted to the side. Her green hair lay behind her shoulders, with a strand in front of her right ear.

Her mom gave her a dry look, brushing her hair behind her ear. "Sure. 'Not that long.' Anyways, you need to get moving. Youth group starts in-" She glanced up at a large but plain clock above the mantel in the living room- "ten minutes." She pushed Alex's shoulders, steering her around the pillows on the floor and toward the doorway. 

"Mom!" Alex protested, planting her feet in the hallway. "I can walk!" 

Her mom stopped and took her hands off. "Okay. I just wanted to get you moving," she said curtly, with a knowing grin. 

"Okay, Mom. Thanks," Alex replied, swiftly turning and trudging up the stairs to retrieve the few belongings that she took with her everywhere.

Alex didn't turn, but if she had, she would have noticed her mom watching her the whole way. She watched with a melancholy expression on her face, sighing and thinking just how grown up her baby was.