From a young age, I have been able to sit down and draw for hours. Throughout my years, my talents have improved and I sit in a GCSE art class once a week. My drawings are all over our house.
My music side, I don’t know when I started playing guitar. I just remember learning. I play in the school and county band. At home I play all the time. It’s kind of an anger escape. When I’m frustrated, I play on the guitar and it soothes everything, I feel calm. The house seems full of colour and you feel like you’re in the music. That's until your father comes in the room, and asks you to be quiet, or words to that effect.
I carry on reading my book. The wind was blowing my red curls everywhere. The pages were flapping. I don’t know why I bothered. Suddenly I heard that accent again.
“Stop it! Gimme my folder back! It’s not yours!”
And then heard giggling. I peered from the behind the tree. There was Katie and Alice, throwing Josie’s folder above her head. I never noticed, Josie is smaller than I thought.
Katie and Alice are the school bullies. When you start a new term, you get a new desk. A new teacher. New bullies for the year. These two love getting a kick out of me, but I just walk away. Fine, have my folder. I can do the work again. They just stare there, looking dumbstruck.
Josie was now crying. As much as I’m trying not to like the girl, I walked over and grabbed the folder from Alice's hands and gave it to Josie. I walked back to my place under the tree and got back down to reading. The wind had calmed down, and I actually could read my pages.
“Thank you for that.”
I looked up. Josie head was in the way of the cold sunshine. It looked like if she had a halo.
“It’s nothing, really.”
She coughed and sat down next to me. Great, company.
“No, it is. Us, well, clever people.” She snorted like a pig. I glaced up at her again, gave a disapproving look and went back to reading my book.
“..Always get teased for being clever. It’s mean don’t you think?” Josie suddenly woke me up from my thoughts. I nodded.
“It’s great to talk to someone else who understands. Did you skip a year too?”
I must have given her a confused look. Did I hear this correctly, skipped a year?
“I’ve just turned 13; I skipped a year back in primary school... did you?”
I shook my head and looked up at the sky. I don’t mind compliments, but not this. She skipped a year. I don’t mean to be the jealous type, but why haven't skipped a year? I’m smarter than her, I know I am. I had to leave. I felt sick. I got to my feet.
“I’m going now, I have a music lesson.”
I walked away. The wind had picked up again and my hair was flying everywhere. I was keeping hold of my books, before they fly out of my hands.
****
I finally got to home after the wind threw me about and to the floor many times on the way home.
My brother was destroying toys in the front garden. My dad wasn't home yet. I doubt very much my elder sister was in. So I walked straight in, slammed my books on the floor and went to the music room.
I played my guitar fast. And then faster. And then louder, harder. I knew my fingers were going to start to bleed but I honestly had to get the jealously out of me. I wanted to scream, but my guitar was doing that for me. I looked up and my mother was standing there.
“Emma. You’re making a racket, even your sister was complaining.” My mother had the expression on her face that I have all the time. Confused, annoyed and angry.
She's home? She spoke? I’m making a noise?
“You’re going to break that guitar. What’s the matter? You look angry...”
My mother sat down next to me. She held me close and run her fingers through my curls. I explained to her about Josie. How I didn't like her, although I’ve only spoken to her twice. How she angered me. How I was envious of her. How I wanted to speak properly. What was the deal with that accent anyway?
“Oh darling. Stop being silly!”
Silly? I’m not being silly, I know everyone is comparing me to a thirteen-year-old pip speak.
“Now stop it. You’re scared because you have never encountered someone like this before. She’s probably more scared of you than you are of her. Try and socialize with her. You don’t have many friends nowadays. Now come down for dinner. Before your brother destroys the kitchen.”
One. I’m not scared of her, far from it. She only comes up to my belly button, even that. Two. Aren’t bears the animals who are scared of each other, well actually they can get along? Three. Don’t have many friends nowadays? I have never had friends.
****
I turned up fashionably late for the next day. It was still was windy, my folder flew away twice onto the road on the way to school.
Tuesday, first period maths. I walked into the classroom, not paying attention to my surroundings and threw myself into the chair, and threw my books onto the desk.
“Hello. How are you this morning?”
I turned and was faced with a smiling Josie. It was ten past nine. I had only been awake for half an hour. I didn’t need this.
Maths is as depressing as all other lessons. Josie knew every answer. At one point in the lesson, she got up and did an answer on the board and explained it. And the class understood. She was doing better than the actual teacher. I looked outside through the window and rain clouds were gathering and I could feel the air getting heavy.
****
After sitting in the library, trying to avoid Josie, I went to my art class. everyone is sat round the big wooden table covered in paint from previous years, getting out their work and moaning how the deadline is next week and they are no where finishing. I look to the back of the class, where I normally sit down, and someone was in my seat. Josie.
Josie. What was she doing here? The big tourist.
She smiled at me, that toothy grin. Her eyes light up. She disgusted me. She was everything I was not. Pretty, polite and popular. She had been at the school hardly a week and she had invited to 3 parties. Not that I care of course.
I walked up to her seat, and slammed my bag on the desk. This is where I sit; this is where I have always sat. At the back, by the window. More than likely she knew this, and was doing it to get back at me.
“Thank goodness you came! I need someone to talk to. Sit here!” she looked down back at her palette of brightly coloured paint.
Talk? Replace the word ‘talk’ to ‘ramble meaningless things to someone who doesn’t care nor listen’ and you’re nearly there Josie.
The wind was picking up outside. The wind was picking up the leaves, and tossing them all over the place. The wind was banging against the window. The wind was preparing for the rain.
I opened up my ears and heard Josie speak about her artwork. I must have given her a disgusting look; perhaps more disgusting than usual, as she then explained to me the huge covered up canvas beside her.
She was clearly excited. Dying to explain it to me. Rain was beating down on the windows, causing them to shake.
“You know that’s there’s this art competition coming up in the school? It got mentioned to my parents on induction day at the school. While I had some time off, I kind of knocked this up together.”
I had completely forgotten. How did it slip from my mind? Was I looking out of the window in class again? Why didn't I hear it in my GCSE art class? I felt like kicking myself for letting this slip. I should have done something, I won last year first prize.
My thought drifted away, as the rain was beat more. My nose ran from being exposed to the wet for the past week. I just remembered that Josie was rambling on. Then, she lifted the sheet.
If I weren’t sitting down, I would have collapsed in a heap. This was, stunning. I had never done anything like this. The room all of a sudden seemed dark, and all I could see was the painting. Its face, its eyes, its red hair as raging flames, the long lanky body, and blue swirls all around it, the ripped pieces of script all around it...
My legs were weak. Jealous pumped through my veins. Envy was oozing out of every pore. This girl was my nemesis. She had gone too far. Was she doing this on purpose? Was she placed here to give me a challenge, as my life has been just an easy ride so far?
The painting literally burned my eyes; I was squinting to look at it. I was afraid to open my eyes more, just in case my fury took over. I could hear Josie but I couldn't make out the words.
I grabbed my bag and ran out of the room. I had to. Otherwise, my anger would have overtaken. I ran down the school hall and out of the grounds.
I ran home. The rain striked my face and arms. It was huge raindrops, and I could feel my skin getting cold. I ran until my body ached and my breathing was getting sore. I had enough of this girl. Of this girl giving me a challenge. I wasn't a weakling. I wasn't scared of the challenge. I had never had one before.
*****
I got a ride to school the next day. I was sneezing and coughing bad and dad took an interest in me for once. On the way to school, my mind was still blurred from last night. The burning red flames. The scripted writing. The calming blue swirls around it. The more I thought about it, the faster my heart raced and my breathing got faster.
I arrived early to school for the first time in two years. I sat in my seat and watched everyone come in, all with wet hair and coughing. They obviously had been out in the rain, like me.
Josie came in the door. Her eyes looked cold. She didn't smile. I expected her to sit next to me and she didn't. Now this took me by surprise. She went and sat at the back, on a desk by herself. I turned round to look at her, to give her a reassuring smile and she looked out at flooding playground outside.
I couldn't concentrate any more.
I had school band that night. Afterwards, I made my way to the art department. I knew that all the artwork was being put out today, ready for people to look at it tomorrow and for it being judged the next day. I also knew the no one would be there, as it was way past school time.
You could hear my footsteps on the corridor. I could feel my blood boiling again, knowing that the painting was close. My heart was beating again and I was sweating. Everything was becoming a slow blur.
I open the door, quietly. I had rehearsed my line if there was an art teacher there, and I had rehearsed my moves if there were other students in there. There wasn't however, so I dumped my bag in the corner and wiped my sweaty hands on my jeans.
I looked around the room and saw the other paintings and there it was. Leant up against the window.
The brightness showed a contrast against the grey clouds that were gathered up outside. The air was thick; you knew there was going to be a storm soon.
I slowly walked up to the painting, frightened like it was going to attack me. The eyes fixated with mine. I looked it up and down, just like we were going to battle.
My heart was just now, a constant beat. I think my breathing had stopped. My face and neck were wet.
I grabbed paint. Black and violet. And my destroying began. I threw the black paint on the canvas, destroying the artwork. I ripped off the little pieces of paper. I painted purple over the flames. I got a glue gun and stuck little pieces of rubbish on there. I got a chair, stood on it, and tipped 3 different colours of paint down it.
Then, I sat on the chair and watched the artwork dry. There, front of me was my anger. Black, and ruined.
It took about an hour to dry. I sat and stared blankly at it, and no guilt entered my body. I felt proud. I had won the challenge.
I washed my hands, covered the artwork up with a cloth. I grabbed my bag and left the school.
The sun was shining again, and warmed my skin. The thunderstorm had cleaned the air and you could breathe again. The sun was warming my arms and my face. My heartbeat was slow and my breathing felt good. I walked past Josie's house on the way home. I stopped, smiled, and realized that I had beaten. I was the better.
****
Thursday is another pointless day in my opinion. I was in geography, looking out the window watching the teachers carry the artwork outside and into the hall. The sun was gleaming down on them. I saw the huge canvas being lifted out and I couldn't help but smirk.
The afternoon was dedicated to the art competition. Each one was revealed and the artist gave a little speech of who inspired them and why they should win. Everyone, from the art and music classes gathered in the hall. I stood at the back, mooching with a secret smile on my face.
Josie was stood by her canvas, pleased. You could tell she had this feeling she was going to win. I knew she wasn't however. She kept trying to make eye contact with me but I just looked outside wishing I was in the sunshine.
The headmaster gave a lecture about how this year, most of the pieces were stunning, and how he was amazed... I was listening. I was practically dying for Josie to get the shock of her life.
Then it was finally here. The headmaster explained this was our youngest contender and maybe, one of our finest. I couldn't watch. My heart started pounding again. Blood racing through my veins. I slowly opened the door, slipped out and listened.
I heard gasps. I heard shock. I heard silence. Then, Josie screamed and ran out of the hall, sobbing. I looked through the see through glass and saw everyone who looked shocked and surprised.
On the way home, I stopped at the park and did some sunbathing. Everyone was down there, soaking up the sun and wishing it would last for longer. I smiled like a Cheshire cat. Josie’s friendship and mine could have been delightful. We could have been a great team. We could have been the best friends that you always dream about. But no. Why? Because, well. I’m afraid of challenges. I didn’t want to feel threatened.
My red hair shined in the sun like flames while I scraped off the remaining black paint from my fingernails.
