Can you see what lies ahead of the road in a painting?
Can you look through the windows?
Can you see what's beyond the space?
Can you really tell what Mona Lisa feels by her eyes?
Do you really know who you are?
If no, then you have arrived at your dead end.
Slowly and surely, he reached for the pen, with a thin and delicate nib, and it automatically locked with his hands like it was part of his body. His left hand, it roamed around the drawer, reaching for a paper with a delicate texture just fit for his taste. He found the eraser behind the lamp, it reflects a clear white light that adds magic to the perfect ambiance of his table. Firm and stable.
More than the light, it lit up everything in the room. It radiates positive, or should I say optimistic vibes and a cheerful aura, more than that of flora and fauna. Glass like containers contains this colorful liquids, red that looks like love, blue that represents the sky, black that reminds you of space, yellow that's undeniably beaming happiness, brown that smells like the Earth and pink like the cherry blossoms. What else can go wrong when you have all of these.
A deafening sound of a broken glass resonates inside the room. Broken pieces was scattered all around the hardwood floor. He tried to clean up, gathering even those little pieces. But as his reached for the last piece, blood started to come out from his index finger. The cut was little yet deep, that it took some time to stop bleeding.
The dripping of the blood and his footsteps are the only sounds you can hear as he reached for his first aid kit at his room. Holding into things. Caressing it. Carefully making his way to reach arrive at his destination that is located at the end of a hallway full of paintings and tables that serves as a memory capsule for all their family pictures.
'Ouch!' he exclaimed when he put alcohol on his wound, 'an alcohol, goodness!' he accidentally poured it on his index finger, which has stop bleeding in a while.
'I can't still tell by touch. Tsk tsk'
Again, he trusted his hands and feet and carefully find his way back to his work room which is a three room away from where he mend his accidentally hurt index finger. It is not like it is new to him. It happens to him often, that he get used to get cut by things accidentally. He resumed with what he was supposed to do. He grabbed for the paper and pen and started to create lines and shapes and then added colors to it to give it some life.
'No.' he throws it to the floor.
'No.' throws it again.
'Noooo'
'This is not the one.'
'Why can't I do it?.'
'Goodness!'
He drastically draw on every piece of paper he can grabbed from his rectangular wooden table. But it all ends up in the surface of the hard wood floor. After a while, he gathered all his thoughts and self up and had a grip of the reality.
Crystal like liquid, shaped like raindrops started dropping.
'You should've taken me with them!'
CHAPTER 1: The Dead End
I.
Yellow Crossroads
The bright rays of the beaming yellow ball of energy finds it way through the closed windows and scalloped pinched bell top curtains. It was indeed a room for an artist. Paints and brushes were scattered on the tiled floor, numerous canvas with a sprinkle and a glimpse of what is on the artist mind. Hanged on the cream colored wall was paintings of roads, railways and mountains paths that extends from afar, it creates an illusion in the viewers mind that tricks them and makes them wonder what is beyond those paths. It seems endless and it tickles the viewers craving for tranquility and solitude.
The wall above the bed is an eye catcher. It stands out from all the paintings inside his rooms. A silhouette of three differently portrayed people. Those who have clear eyes and a good vision matched with understanding can really say that those people are a family.
It was Lucas' mother and father with him. He painted it with a style that radiates a loving vibe. They were facing at the back of the painting and it shows a beautiful road covered with trees and at the end of the masterpiece, there was the sun. It could be rising in the morning or it could also be ready for sleeping in the evening. But one thing was certain, the painting contains the story of them as a family, more than any photographs and pictures inside fancy frames and photo albums can ever hold.
Under the painting, the bed sheet starts moving, and the pillows starts bumping each other like marshmallows rubbing each others cheeks. Lucas grabbed his warm sheet with a galaxy design, you can see the planets, its orbit, the stars, asteroids and some just appears like dots of silver. One can say he's not ready to leave his bed yet.
'Lucas, come on out, we are running late.'
He groans out of frustration. 'I can't go, I'm sick.'
'Sick ? Lucas we need to attend your art exhibit in school, I thought you wanna show everyone your art works and someday be like Vincent van Gogh, Leonardo Da Vinci, and Claude Monet ?'
He rose out of bed suddenly with round eyes and open mouth, 'Ow you were talking about the exhibit, wait for me I'll be ready in a while mom!' he shouted and rushed to the shower leaving his sheets and pillows scattered to the floor.
Growing up as an only child might be a hindrance for other but not for Lucas. His mother and father are versatile enough just not to make him feel alone and lonely, in school and in their home. They are his best friends and playmates from the moment he gained consciousness and untill now that he's currently in the eleventh grade in his senior high school years. He is undeniably and exceptional boy, his admiration for paintings and drawing are just note worthy. He really is inlove with roads and railways that extends from no one knows where. The breath taking color contrast and exemplary scenic views are worthy of appreciation.
II.
St. Blue For You
Embracing the warm breeze, enjoying the song currently played in the radio, Mom and Dad and are peeking at each others eyes while singing along to the old love songs that expresses love amd admiration through the lyrics that can awaken a strong feeling. It was 9:30 Monday, morning filled with honey and butter. Lucas who was currently alone at the back seat grabbed his sketch book, flipped through its pages, he scanned through his old drawings of roads and his lips created a curved line showing his teeths and dimples that he got from his mother.
He saw his mom and dad being ever affectionate with each other, and having the the view of the road in front of them makes it more amusing as ever. He decided to draw that one of a kind view. A road ahead, and at the side is his mother and father smiling from ear to ear.
He looked at his drawing for a long time, even the artist was overwhelmed by his work. Seems like he cannot take his eyes off on such a wonderful sight. However, as time passes sleepiness started to grow in him and in a while he closed his eyes.
'Weee-ooowww, weee-oooww, weee-ooow'
He was awakened by the sound of the ambulance. The last thing Lucas rememberd was him falling asleep in the car with his parents.
'Mom! Dad!' he shouted half-awaked.
'Shhh! It's okay. Just rest kid.'
'Where are my parents? Why is there an ambulance? Our car? Where are they?'
'Not now, we'll tell you later'.
'No I wan--ahh.' He touched his forhead and felt the blood rushing down and his vision grew darker and darker.
The smell, the ambiance, the noise. He's still not opening his eyes yet he can tell the place where he is will not be a delicate sight. It was dark everywhere. The ceilings, the windows, the door, the table, the people. There was none. He cannot see a thing. Not even a ray of light entered his eyes.
He slowly touched his eyes, to see if it's closed or open. His sweaty and cold hands travelled through his face and carefully touched his eyes.
'What is this?! Noooo. It can't be happening! Noooo. Mom! Dad! Where you?'