One stroke of the brush caused the paint to spread evenly across the canvas. Bright liquid ran itself along the white sheet as it stained the paper artistically. Moving towards the corners of the drawing, it opened up into a giant design filled with passion and desire but drew back as it realized its emotional outburst.
I sat obediently in the dinning room with my breakfast in front of me. The food did not seem appealing for the stale sandwich had been resting on my plate for several hours. However, I forked up the soggy tomatoes all the same and placed it between the bread before I took my first nibble. Setting aside my food, I swallowed the hard sandwich and dabbed my mouth with the napkin near me.
“How did the finals go?” the man on the other end of the long table questioned in a deep voice. His hair was neatly combed back and his shirt was nicely pressed. He had an air of importance and respect as he spoke with a thundering voice.
“I’ve got a perfect score,” I replied softly.
There was a brief pause.
“I believe that you do know that I will no longer be satisfied by your results in school,” his voice was monotonous but dangerous. “Your brothers have achieved that goal a long time ago. As the third son, I expect more and nothing less from you. Did I make myself clear?”
“Yes, father,” I smiled and returned to my breakfast.
The rose in the middle of the painting grew larger and the petals from the flowers around it faded away. It stood proudly, with confidence, as the brush dabbed on its edges to give it a 3D effect. Blooming gorgeously from the China vase, the sunlight from an opened window hit it from a perfect angle and brought it to life.
However, the loneliness surrounding it was unbearable. No one in sight was there to admire or to praise it for its beauty. Not even a single glance or a nod of approval was cast or given.
Two young men across the table were reading the daily newspaper as they consumed their meals in silence. Only the sound of turning pages was audible from their side of the room. The fan above them spun moderately as the air circulated, creating a vortex in the atmosphere.
Their opened briefcases were placed in front of them as files and diagnosis of recent patients were visible inside the black work cases. White coats hung symbolically over their shoulders and dropped weightlessly onto the floor, touching the ground every now and then according to the moving air.
The golden frame around the canvas shone brilliantly as melancholy hums echoed from the rose within. The barrier surrounding the plant restricted its growth and shushed its pleas.
Somewhere in the corner of the drawing, a thin line of paint escaped its confinement and flowed towards the white-washed walls. It crept alongside the frame and glided gently around the curves and turns. With the help of the brush, the paint fought against the force of gravity as it raise upwards towards the ceiling above.
The fact that my father would not be pleased by mere good grades had long been stated and that statement would never be erased from my mind. I had to offer something more, something that would benefit me along the way.
And so, I strove alone. Without anyone’s knowledge, I carefully built my empire by recruiting individuals from around me that would somehow profit my father’s company eventually. It wasn’t a difficult task for I could easily strike up a conversation or gain an elder’s trust with my maturity and confidence.
However, I couldn’t help but notice the hole deep inside my heart.
Taking a few steps backwards, I dropped the brush onto the floor and observed my creation. My heart pounded hard against my ribcage and my throat tightened. Holding back personal emotions, I leaned against the wall behind me and let myself drop onto the floor.
The rose in the painting cried out for freedom but nobody came to its rescue. The frame around it held onto it and refused to release it from its position.
But it did not matter, for the flower outside the canvas was glowing brighter than any other object before me.
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