Destinys Painting

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
A girl wins a prize which boosts her self estime and she realizes who and what she is. A champion.

Submitted: June 13, 2011

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Submitted: June 13, 2011

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Abby ran through the door to mother. A smile beaming from her peeped up face. She looked better than usual, which was hard because she was the "prettiest girl in the house." As most men say. Her orange hair in bouncy curls, she was wearing a pink dress that reached just above her knees and a pair of high heels.
"I have decided to go to the dance." She uttered in a blasting tone.
"So." I said dully fliping another page of People Magazine. Normally I wouldn't read these things but I had finished all of my home work and my hand was numb from drawing so much.
Looking up at Abby, I noticed her blinding stare. I knew she wanting nothing more than for me to be interested, or at least pretend. But that's not how I role.
"Don't look at me in that tone of voice." She continued staring until a few moments passed and she knew she wasn't going to win. Then she turned to mom.
"What is it?" Mom asked concerned. I don't think Abby knows what sarcasm is, but I could tell mom was just making sure Abby doesn't do her normal ranting about how nobody cares. They always end badly.
"I'm not going to bother. No body cares about how the most popular boy in school asked me to the dance. No one cares that I said yes. No one cares that - " I slammed the magazine on the table to catch Abby's attention.
"Well I know how much I would want to listen about your obviously amazing day but I have better things to do." I got up from my chair. "I'm sure mom will listen to you though, she can even sit here." I began walking out of the room but, as I expected, Abby had to add her two sense.
"Your just jealous because you don't have a date for the dance." The dish mom was holding fell from her hand on the floor, but neither of us bothered to pay any attention.
"You think I'm jealous of you? The only reason you can get a date is because your nothing but a red headed barbie doll. No body cares about anything else other then looks. If talent had anything to do with the most popular guy in school you would be in my place right now. You would be a nothing which wouldn't be much of a difference." I know I just basically called myself a nothing. Which was true in the high school world. If it was the real world I would probably be a hobbo that lived besides the dumpsters. Abby is what I like to call a plastic. And if high school was the real world, she would be in her pink house taking care of her little plastic babies because she didn't use a condom with her plastic husband, kin. Or in this case, the most popular guy in school
"You think your something don't you! You have the nerve to yell at me..." She stopped, trying to think of her next insult.
"You think your paintings are worth looking at, but there not. Your never going to be famous. You might as well quit."  She stopped speaking, she knew she went over board, and as most times, didn't think before speaking.
I felt the tears build up in my eyes but being the person I was, I wasn't going to cry in front of everyone. Instead I stormed out of the kitchen door and up to my bed room to cry like the baby I was.
Laying there in bed, my face down in the pillow, I was doing the worst thing possible. I was telling myself all of the reasons why Abby could be right. How I could the loser that most people thought I was.
My sister was the only person I could piss off. I was too bashful to talk back to anyone other than my family. No one had ever seen any of my paintings besides the people I loved most.
I heard a knocking on my door. Without my approval, James stepped from behind it. His face seemed as sad as mine so I couldn't be mad at him for coming in uninvited.
"Sweetheart, whats wrong." He said sitting himself by my feet. I sat up and leaned onto his chest, as he rapped his long arms around me.
"What do you think of my paintings?" I said.
"Well, I'm no judge but I would hang them up in the fanciest museum in town. I specially love the one you painted of us." He said squeezing me just a little bit harder and kissing my forehead.
It was a painting of the two of us kissing. I had made it from a picture my friend took of us.
"Aw yes, that one.... tell me, what did it look like?" I seen the smile that I had planted on his face.
"How about I show you." He shocked me by lifting me up and laying me gently on the bed. the he got of his knees. It seemed like minutes before his lips met mine.. When we where both out of breath he let me sit up. A few moments passed.
"There is a art contest coming up at school." I announced
"Really?"
"The winner gets a scholarship to an art institute in Chicago."
"Don't you think you could enter."
"Well, yes. I just don't think I'm qualified."
"Autumn! You could have a painting in the same place as Mona Lisa!"
"Don't exaggerate James."

. . .

The last bell of the day rang and I was positive I was going to enter the art contest.  Even though I had a forceful felling of going to the media center to sign up, I still wanted to back down. My stomach was tingling as I walked to the room. But I had already confirmed my decision.
Ms. Smitherton was sitting in front of her computer, dazed and typing.
"Eh... Excuse me." I said as she looked up with a bitter stare that soon evolved back into her usual sweet eyes.
"Ms. Richardson. What can I do for you?" Her voice was slightly annoyed.
"Well, I'm here to get an art contest application. The one for the scholarship."
"I didn't know you painted." She began lifting up piles of papers of all different colors. Her desk was surprisingly cluttered for the usual teacher. But she was younger than most.
"Aw! Here it is." She removed a light blue colored paper from underneath a pink one.
"Just read this -" She pointed to the front of the paper.
" - and fill this out." She flipped the paper and handed it to me before she continued with her typing.

By the time I was finished filling out the application it looked like this:

School: Boilgersom High
Name: Autumn Richardson
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Email: fantasticpreformance@yahoo.com
Address: 470 Roosevelt Rd. Virginia Beach, Virginia
Phone: 1-757-463-2942
Other contact information: N/A

. . .

"Honey, dinner!" Mom called from up stairs. I was in the basement working on my painting for the art contest. I didn't know exactly how it was going to turn out. Normally I would draw a before picture, but I felt something special about this. I figured to just go out on a limb. Perhaps I wouldn't get my hopes up too much.
I put my paint brush down on the table and went up the long wooden steps that led directly to the kitchen.

James was expected over for dinner tonight. Dad hadn't quite excepted him as part of the family. He felt he needed to get to know him more.
"Was for din din?" I said examining the table. A turkey laid on a platter in the center of the table. Along side were mashed potatoes, corn, deviled eggs, and more sides.
"Damn, what is this thanksgiving?"
"Well, yes. It is thanksgiving sweetheart." James Reminded.
"Oh... Well I guess I haven't been paying any attention to the date. With my painting and all."
I guess they decided that it wasn't that big of a deal because  they continued eating.

My father was chatting with my man friend. Mom was talking to my sister about the latest trend in fashion. And I was thinking to myself about how amazing everything was going. That was until I digested the fact that it was, in fact, thanksgiving.
"Oh!" I yelled, surprisingly out loud. As quickly as I could I hoped out of my chair and ran down the stairs to start working on my painting. It didn't take long before my dad rushed followed me down to the basement.  
"Whats wrong Autumn?" He said in a stern husky voice.
"My painting.... I'm not even half finished with my painting."
"So." I never did realize but that was really annoying. No wonder Abby yelled at me. It was hard to explain something and do something really important.  I froze and dropped my hand from the canvas.
"It's due tomorrow, dad!" I yelled. For a moment I felt like Abby.
"Oh! Is... Is there anything I can do."  I sighed.
" Not really, no."

I was only half done with the painting and it was already midnight. I felt myself falling asleep and figured I could sit down and rest for a little bit. The next thing I knew it was morning, and I had a hour left until the display. The place was about a half an hour away and I had no way to get there.
I ran to the nearest phone to call the first person I thought of.
"Hello?" The man on the other line said.
"James?"
"Yes."
"James I need a ride."
"Where?"
"I need a ride to the place For my art contest."
"Well Autumn I'm upstairs. When do you need to go?"
"Now!"
The phone started to beep. So I knew he had hung up. And I also heard him stomping down the stairs.
"Come on." He said slipping his shoes.
"Start the engine I got to get a painting."
"Witch one?"
"I dont know! Go!"
I ran down stairs and grabbed the first painting I could reach. Unfortunately it was covered up so I didn't know which one it was.

. . .

We drove up to a medium sized building. On the door a sigh hung:

Boilgersom High Art Contest.
8:30-10:00 am
Friday Only

I opened the door where a security guard holding a clipboard stood
"Are you one of the contestants." I nodded my head and lifted up the unknown painting.
"Fill this out." He handed me a clipboard with a paper that looked almost like the one Ms.Smitherton had givin me earlier.
It had basically all the same question except one that asked what the name of my piece was. I started to lift up the cover the lay over the painting but then something popped in my head.
"It's about to start." The guard cautioned. I quickly wrote down the name and handed the two things to him.

On stage five chairs sat beside each other. Each one was filled besides the last one so I sat down. A ginger sat on the chair next to mine. He wore a black tux. I thought this was surprisingly formal. Then I realized what I was wearing.
I had on jeans and a baggy T - shirt. Both were covered with paints of all different colors.
A woman stood in the front-center of the stage. She was just as formal as the contestants. I felt the eyes of many staring at me. I was praying they thought it was some type of fashion statement or some artist thing.
James got a seat somewhere in the back of the slightly small audience. I knew he noticed how out of place I was. I figured it wasn't that big of a deal.
The woman gave a long speech that I didn't listen to. I was pretty much out of zone until the paintings came out.
The first one was of a sun flower. I looked at the ginger sitting next to me. He had a smirk on his face, so I assumed that it was his.
"This painting is called sunflower of life. By Gregory Homing." The woman announce in the microphone.
The next one was a picture of a lake. And a sunset rised from the center of it. .
"This painting is called. Of course, Lake sunset. By Mary Jane Wilson"
I wanted to know what mine was going to be. I had a few painting that I wasn't very proud of and was hoping that none of them was picked out.
My painting was the fourth one to be shown.
"This is called Destiny. By Autumn Richardson."
It all seemed like slow motion as she pulled off the cover. This could be the decision of my future.
Underneath the white chalky blanket laid the picture of Me and James kissing.
I looked out into the audience to look at James. He had a smile unlike any I had ever seen before. A storm of applause, like every time, boomed out of the audience. Everything seemed more exiting for me. Of course every thing was happening the same as before but it was happening to me.
After the last claps for the last painting, the same man that stood by the door, passed a clipboard. As Everyone voted, the five of us on stage were telling each other how much we admired each others paintings.
The woman stepped of the stage and collected the clip board. She wrote something down and walked back the the center of the stage.
"Each of these five contestants certainly deserve this prize. But there is only one winner. And that winner is... Drum roll please." People from the audience started patting there legs. The woman gave a bit of a laugh.
"Autumn Richardson with Destiny." A roar of claps and smiles came from the audience. A stood up and took the place of the woman as she handed me the micro phone.
"Whoa! I can't believe this. Eh, I'm sure most of you are wondering why I'm wearing.... This. Well It's a long story. You see. I was working on a painting and pretty much didn't pay any attention to anything else. I didn't even know it was thanksgiving yesterday. Well yesterday at dinner I realized what day it was, and I still had a lot more work to do on my painting. It was late and I got real tired so i figured if I just take a little nap I can wake up and finish the painting. Well it was a longer nap than intented. So I called my hubbie, James for a ride. And luckily he stayed over that night so he got up and we came here."
"Right before we left I grabbed a painting, I didn't know which one it was. As I was filling out the paper it asked what I was going to call it. I was going to lift the cover up but I realized this was going to judge my future. What ever this painting would be it was going to be my destiny if I were to win. So I thought, suprise me. And I gave the guy the painting."
"I would like to thank James for convincing me that I am good enough to enter a contest. In a way I would like to thank my sister Abby. I remember the time she told me I couldn't be famous. In a weird way that helped me. I can't explain it myslef. But what I'm getting to is if I could beat these amazing artist what else could I do. Thank you all for reminding me of the champion I was born as."  



 


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