Painting House (Damen)
Aug 30, 2010 16:43:34 GMT -5
Post by peanutpie on Aug 30, 2010 16:43:34 GMT -5
Aina Jawlotter
Plastic laid on the carpet, tucked in carefully to the seams inbetween the wall and the seam of the carpeting. All the furniture in the dining room had been removed, leaving the blank white walls that I could change with a paintbrush. Was I that daring to choose a deep blue, or should I stick to beige? The question circled my head like vultures, and I looked at the mangy paint cans I had scrounged from the discount store on the other side of town. I had probably gotten fourty cans for less than it cost for twenty, even though the colors could look a little off. The blue was a little purplish, the green a little yellowish, the beige a little darker. They were all lined up against the wall, waiting patiently for me to work magic on the white walls in my familys house. I was hoping Gage was going to show up, just not to help, more to protect me from the snarling of my sister, who locked herself in her room, which was draped with black curtains on the wall. She refused for me even to paint the walls grey and add black accent swirls on the wall, but what can you do? She was a little moody since last night when she spotted me kissing a boy on the cheek. She was known as the tomboy, one of the boys. She said they viewed her as a little sister, but I didnt believe her. I could see the boys that glanced at her in a way, like when she lit her fireworks. We were artists in our own way, hers just being more and more dangerous than my painting skills that I found to be my favorite part of well, me.
Adena Jawlotter
Locked up in my room, I curled up under my blankets even more. With the blackout blinds pulled taught, and I was warm, I would be fine for a while. I sometimes wonder why im not my sister. She has a talent for something other than blowing things up, she is prettier than I am, and last but not least, guys actually like her. I mean, she isnt a magnet. She isnt drop dead hot, she isnt the next Leonardo De Vinci, but she still is a lot better than me. She is out there, painting the walls before Dad gets back from work. She is such a goody two shoes. Helping Dad with this, with that. But, I bet if she heard my thoughts, they would retaliate against me in a way of "But Dad loves you more. You have his skilled hand, not to light something on fire that will explode on your face. Your a risk taker, I stick to a paintbrush that cant do anything but get me dirty. You, could die, but you dont, because Dad loves you more." Of course, I know that he perfers my skill over hers, but saying "he loves you more" takes it a bit far. But, if I would respond, which I wouldnt, because I would be trudging upstairs by then, carrot stick in hand, ready to work on the next project in my small series of fireworks I was planning on setting off the night of the reaping. if I was reaped, I would leave the fireworks to my Father, who would probably cringe in sorrow, in the corner. If Aina, he would probably do the same thing. Its not likely one of us is going to be reaped, nor is it unlikely. So I finally deicded to rouse myself and hop down the stairs.
Plastic laid on the carpet, tucked in carefully to the seams inbetween the wall and the seam of the carpeting. All the furniture in the dining room had been removed, leaving the blank white walls that I could change with a paintbrush. Was I that daring to choose a deep blue, or should I stick to beige? The question circled my head like vultures, and I looked at the mangy paint cans I had scrounged from the discount store on the other side of town. I had probably gotten fourty cans for less than it cost for twenty, even though the colors could look a little off. The blue was a little purplish, the green a little yellowish, the beige a little darker. They were all lined up against the wall, waiting patiently for me to work magic on the white walls in my familys house. I was hoping Gage was going to show up, just not to help, more to protect me from the snarling of my sister, who locked herself in her room, which was draped with black curtains on the wall. She refused for me even to paint the walls grey and add black accent swirls on the wall, but what can you do? She was a little moody since last night when she spotted me kissing a boy on the cheek. She was known as the tomboy, one of the boys. She said they viewed her as a little sister, but I didnt believe her. I could see the boys that glanced at her in a way, like when she lit her fireworks. We were artists in our own way, hers just being more and more dangerous than my painting skills that I found to be my favorite part of well, me.
Adena Jawlotter
Locked up in my room, I curled up under my blankets even more. With the blackout blinds pulled taught, and I was warm, I would be fine for a while. I sometimes wonder why im not my sister. She has a talent for something other than blowing things up, she is prettier than I am, and last but not least, guys actually like her. I mean, she isnt a magnet. She isnt drop dead hot, she isnt the next Leonardo De Vinci, but she still is a lot better than me. She is out there, painting the walls before Dad gets back from work. She is such a goody two shoes. Helping Dad with this, with that. But, I bet if she heard my thoughts, they would retaliate against me in a way of "But Dad loves you more. You have his skilled hand, not to light something on fire that will explode on your face. Your a risk taker, I stick to a paintbrush that cant do anything but get me dirty. You, could die, but you dont, because Dad loves you more." Of course, I know that he perfers my skill over hers, but saying "he loves you more" takes it a bit far. But, if I would respond, which I wouldnt, because I would be trudging upstairs by then, carrot stick in hand, ready to work on the next project in my small series of fireworks I was planning on setting off the night of the reaping. if I was reaped, I would leave the fireworks to my Father, who would probably cringe in sorrow, in the corner. If Aina, he would probably do the same thing. Its not likely one of us is going to be reaped, nor is it unlikely. So I finally deicded to rouse myself and hop down the stairs.
