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Always An Artist

Short story By: Catching Frogs
Other



Ellena, a seventeen year old girl, lives with her parents in the city. Since her Dad goes away on buisness meetings and her Mum works all day. Ellena stays at home alone. One day while walking along the highstreet (window shopping) home she meets a young artist. He asks to draw her and she says yes. Over a few days he draws her but she finds something out about him she would never imagined.


Submitted:May 1, 2010    Reads: 50    Comments: 3    Likes: 1   


I had the whole weekend to myself. Dad had gone away on a buisness meeting on Friday and Mum was just working. I loved these weekends.
I was walking along the highstreet on a beautiful Summers day. I had just dropped off a package for my Mum and was walking home, window shopping on the way. I stopped infrontof a shop window. On display was a pair of blue pumps. They would go perfect with my Summer dance dress. Every year we had one and I couldn't wait.
"I'll get them another time." I tell myself. I don't have any money on me and I don't like spending to much at a time. I had just ordered some headphones on my laptop.
"Excuse me." Says someone from behind. I turn round to see a boy staring at me. He doesn't go to my school because I would remember thoughs cheerful green eyes and his natural hair. Natural colour, natural style. His peach shin was just like baby's skin.
"Hello, my names Joey." He starts.
"Um..Hi. I'm Ellena." I answer brushing back my brown hair.
"I'm an artist and I was wondering if I could draw you." I notice behind him is a chair with some paper and pencils sitting on it next to a bench. I don't know. I feel the scar on my face next to my my right eye. A accident that happened years ago but boys tease me about it.
"Why me?" I ask.
"You look...intresting." He answers taking a step to the side. Intresting? Beautiful would be a no-no because of the scar and pretty had only a slim chance getting said about me. I've never been called intresting befor.
"Yeah, it would be nice for a change." He leads me over to his stuff and tells me to sit on the bench.
"Can I do your right side?" He says, picking up his paper and pencil.
"If that what make's me intresting?" I ask him.
"No. I just want to draw your true features." Features?
"OK, fine." I stumble out. "Don't you rather a girl with no scar?"
"As I say. Your intresting." I sit patienly for the next hour and a half. Joey's been concentrting so hard on me but finally says "Sorry, I have to go. Will you come back tomorrow but a bit more early?" Well, it is the weekend and I have nothing planned.
"Yes." We get up and say bye then walk off in different directions home.

* * * * *

I arrive at our meeting place at 11:23am. Joey's already sitting down holding a bag.
"I got something for you." He says and brings out the blue pumps from the bag.
"How did you know?" I ask sitting down and grabbing them to make sure they are the same ones.
"I saw you looking at them yesterday."
"Why?" I say, still gobsmacked.
"They bring out your eyes." I look up at him.
That's what was intresting. My eyes." I say, putting the shoes to the side. "Let's draw while they're still sparkling." I say which brings a huge smile to his face. after about twenty minutes he stops and shows me the picture. It's perfect. Each line was drawn with a steady hand. It was like looking in a mirror.
"Turn to your left. I want to do another. And please talk to me." I turn my body round and I'm glad because my scar won't be in this one. Joey was so pleasent with it though. He din't mention it at all.
"What do you like?" I say. He said talk.
"Drawing."
"Favourite food?"
"Cheese on crackers. You can't live without them." I laugh.
"What About your favourite colour?"
"Blue. Like your eyes." I giggle.
"Aww. Sweet little artist boy." He starts to laugh.
At about 5:15pm he shows me the second picture. I'm smiling in this one and he has made my eyes sparkle.
"Beautiful." I say.
"Ellena?" I hear my Mums voice cry. She runs over to me. "What are you doing out so late?"
"It's not late. Mum loo..."
"Come on. We're going." She grabs my hand before letting me say bye to Joey. I give him a wave and he waves back. All the way home Mum holds my arm. When we get inside the house I sit on the living room sofa.
"What were you doing?" She's never sounded so over pretective in my life.
"Joey, the artist boy was drawing a portrait of me." I hand her the picture of my left to her.
"The artist boy in the hightstreet?"
"Yes."
"Ellena. The artist boy died years ago when you were little." She looks scared and I'm sure I did too.
A ghost just drew my portrait.





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