My Canvas

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Corinth's Pov

After dancing for what seemed like an eternity. Glancing around Kimmy and I noticed that it was basically just us left. Lex, Derrick, and ninety-nine percent of the crowd was gone. It was intriguing to me how quickly present events morphed into the past. It's like if you blink you might just miss it.

"Ready to go?" I asked as Kimmy was stuffing her face with some leftover snacks on the table.

"Yeah, I rahm, well at least I think so, is there any yogurt?" It comes out muffled.

"I'll take that as a yes, and yeah I have a few in left in the fridge you can. . ." Before I could finish she was already racing toward the kitchen. Kimmy and her yogurt obsession I would never get it.

After dropping Kimmy home, mom and I sat adjacent to each other and looked around at the mess.

" Thanks, Corinth." mom said as she approaches to hug me but stops when she realizes what she was about to do.

"I am glad that you enjoyed it, mom, you deserve all of the world and someday I promise I'll give it to you." Her eyes welled but I didn't want her to cry. Not today at least.

I Stretched my hands in an attempt to wipe away the tear that fought to feel the warmth of her cheeks, just as much as I did. The moment my fingers grazed against her skin, which I hadn't felt since that day, I felt electricity percolate through my skin; and I pulled away from her.

Bits of me died every time, withering like a rose. I hated having have to push her away. I missed her embraces that felt like home, to reject her affection or seize as friends got close enough to feel the warmth resonate off of me. I didn't want them to be infected with my dirty touch. To be polluted as I was.

" It's ok Corinth," she said meeting up with me " I know that you don't intentionally react the way that you do and I need you to forgive yourself for that." I stared into the distance splintering with each word. Why does she keep needing to defend me?

I left the room, escaping to my place of peace under the stars. I removed my poetry book that I hid in the blocks under the foot part of blue tiles that led to my house. I crossed my legs and propped the book against it.

The emotions were overwhelming, the air was becoming more difficult to find, my lungs crying out for help. My mental wounds consuming me, my fingers and the pen took control, as though having a mind of their own. My blood was spattered on every page. This book was my canvas and my scars the shades of paint. Every day a new scar would design a story and I would do their bidding.

Noticing that mom had fallen asleep, I snuck upstairs and walked gently over to my room. My window sill was another safe haven of mines. I walked toward it and looked up at the stars one more time before retreating to my bed and bidding the world farewell.

*****

The morning sun had awoken me from a world that often became my freedom, not yesterday though. I mean mom came in about six times to wake me up before, but I wasn't quite done sleeping. Gazing up at the ceiling, looking at the finer details. The black shade of paint that hid the demons I was raising. Nothing felt more like home than death.

"Corinth, Kimmy and they are outside. . . "she spewed puzzled as she gazed on at my lazed figure still twirled in the sheets, probably wondering why I hadn't made any progress since the last time she came in.

" I won't bathe and that green sweater should do the trick. " she looked disgusted but made no comment, she gave up trying to get me to dress feminine. Little did she know it was the only way I felt like I could protect myself.

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