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Amelia imposed on herself an extremely limited budget and hated every part of it. Of course, she never spent more than what she earned and knew how to save money so everything she needed was paid for on time, more or less. If she wanted to save something for herself it would have to wait. Some people don't get that luxury and she was one of those individuals. Even today she knew it was her last time eating at the corner bakery deli before trying to figure out what she wanted to do with her life. It was harder than she thought because she knew there was so much pressure from her mother's words to follow in her footsteps and get everything handed to you just by posing in a tawdry photo shoot or a frivolous music video, and walking up to human resources with a resume in hand and getting hired on the spot. It worked for her mother, why not her?139Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMpZZHBY1O0
139Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPhHt9SeFZO
It was her time now if her mother only wanted her to continue on her road to success. She didn't care what Amelia wanted.
Thinking about her mother turned her skin ghost white followed by goosebumps. She didn't want to be afraid of her but she was. Her mother was very shallow and had claimed Amelia was always wasting her life daydreaming about art and silly things that were nothing more than "meaningless dribble." Amelia didn't want her mother's life. She'd be damned if she was going to head down that road and feel the searing regret later on.
Amelia was different than what the world and her parents perceived her as. She never considered herself boring but then she didn't think she had anything special about her that really stood out. She liked strange things like painting, drawing, and sketching, or at least the people around her tend to think it was weird to like those things because they were labeled as hobbies. It wasn't fair for people to judge her before getting to know her. It felt wrong to get sad over it also, Amelia knew it wasn't her fault. She couldn't help but like what she likes or be who she is.
Sometimes she wasn't always sure of that. "Getting your head out of the clouds is your golden ticket to happiness" her dad would say, and then again her dad was another story. He wanted her life to fit someone who was well educated and taken care of. She was much closer to him when she was younger but as time went on that had been less and less. Being the daughter of the Los Angeles District Court DA wasn't an easy bonding ship. She much preferred his life before he moved up in his career when he was just a district attorney's assistant. Now he is the lead state DA of the Superior Court. Amelia and her dad rarely if at all have moments where they could go out to dinner or just talk. The more accomplished his life had gotten the more they drifted apart from each other. But he always stated how much his work practically paid for everything she needed growing up.
She didn't know what she was going to do with her life but she knew she had to make it in something. She drove to Santa Monica and walked slowly to the end of the pathway that reached the docks. She hadn't come here in a long time; it was a place where she could feel calm and get her mind off the crazy pressures in life. She brought her notepad and pen along with her in case she had a need to sketch something random. It gave her peace whenever she drew, she couldn't explain it. She carried that feeling with her when she was very young and well into adulthood.
Being at the beach, soaking in the ocean mist made everything seem a little easier until she drove back home. But every time she came there it was like she left hell and stepped into a new kind of heaven. People come to the beach to escape, think, collect their thoughts, and observe or create art. Amelia wanted comfort; when she stepped out of the car and sunk her feet into the soft sand she began to close her eyes and revel in it.
She opened them when she heard shouting voices and moved away from a crowd of people playing volleyball. She frowned because she loved the sand and shores but the beach looked a little too overpopulated to enjoy it in solace. The best time to come was at night but it wasn't even sundown yet. She didn't want to miss the sunset's beginning cast so she slipped back on her flats and walked toward the end of the docks.
Tourism was higher than ever since late summer was coming to a close. Every type of person was here, from around the globe, on vacation, living in paradise, then possibly going back to wherever they came from. Amelia felt lucky she was so close.
As she walked the wooded docks she noticed the various street performers and artists trying to earn a living. People always speculated if the Santa Monica performers had just their talent to live on. Based on how they performed, it was pretty obvious how true it was. It must be nice to live your dream and make something tangible of it. She wondered what kind of lives people performing had lived. Often when she went to the docks near the fisherman's section, she observed all kinds of people. Musicians, painters, sketchers, magicians, and even the occasional breakdancer all give the finger to the American dream of going to school, earning a degree, living in debt, and hoping all the work paid off for a sensible job in the end. But they stripped it from America to just dream because for them, life was anything they wanted it to be. Must be amazing to live and breathe this mentality every day.
Amelia was all the more curious. She longed for this type of atmosphere, almost feeling envious all the while. It seemed unpredictable and authentic to the core. If she knew what she wanted to do then it would make sense. She wouldn't have to overthink or worry so much along with the added pushing she received from her parents to succeed in their nearly impossible life standards.
She didn't want to think so brashly anymore. She used to say when the pressures first started to bite at her if only she had superpowers and could magically block out all doubts that stayed in her mind preventing her from relaxing. But this was reality, she had to get used to life being so tough and deal with her thoughts just like any other single person would.
People crowded the docks around her and sometimes it would become a little claustrophobic. Today was different, most of the boisterous antics were left on the beaches, and she relaxed where she was.
There was some kind of party in the corner, loads of friends gathered together were cheering and clapping as the celebration went on. Amelia wondered what it was like to have people around her. Somehow it seemed unreal to her, other times, maybe she didn't push herself out there enough to be near those kinds of people.
It wasn't like she didn't have a social life, her mom would have accepted her to be a socialite, but she didn't know her daughter all that well. It's something Amelia couldn't explain to anyone. She was just a private person, as private as it gets. She normally didn't get too close to anyone and she didn't in turn worry about people getting close to her, knowing her secrets. Possibly, who knows, betraying her in the end. She hoped that wasn't what people were really like. She had this cynical notion that everyone deep down wasn't very trusting.
But she knew she'd have to deal with them sooner or later. She liked watching children though; even in her baby-sitting days, she'd love playing with them even though found it hard to discipline them. She thought they were amazing, but at the same time, she wasn't right for that job. She can't imagine anyone going through the challenges of caring for a child. It's fairly easy to play with them but raising them, teaching them life lessons, was the main thing that terrified her about children. They were wonderful but they need manners and it was incredibly difficult to teach a child to learn and obey especially when all they really want to do is discover life as it goes.
She didn't want to think about how hard it must be for single parents out there. Unfortunately, for her, she never ran around with guys and wound up pregnant with a child. It wasn't her right to judge everyone else for something she didn't understand. She was still glad she was careful and didn't follow down that path. It seemed like the point of no return.
Amelia pulled away from her thoughts and sat down on the bench she knew well enough, taking out her sketch pad and pencil.
It was rare when she had impromptu moments with her drawings. Sometimes she would sit down and pull the images out but it never came to her that way. She was frustrated when she told herself she would create something. It's been a long while since she was inspired anyway; the last thing she drew was a mother and a little boy from a distance. She remembered the mother was sitting incredibly still and her son was feeding the pigeons. Nobody sat still enough to make a proper visual. But at least it was an attempt.
Maybe she was wasting her time in theory but it gave her less stress. Artists make next to nothing when they offer to draw anybody in the city. Amelia tried to ignore that obvious truth but it hit home for her. There are some things you can't make a living out of.
She looked around the docks and saw something quite beautiful. A young man no older than she was but by the looks of his face, showed signs of early growing up, and by his side, a tiny girl with beige blonde hair was bonding with each another. The little girl was sloppily eating some frozen yogurt and her father or possibly her older brother was making sure she was near him the entire time. He picked her up so she could look at the sunset setting behind the mountains in the distance. The dimly light sun cast a blaze of strong light across their faces and Amelia felt her drawing hand move on its own.
She turned her body so she could get a better angle and closer before freely looking to the sketch pad. Drawing children was almost second nature; this child had very round and bold eyes, even from a distance. Amelia couldn't make out the color but guessed they were a lighter shade of some sea color. Maybe green or blue, Amelia felt her hand going by itself with the shadowy personal creases of the family image.
Her cell vibrated, disrupting her concentration. She was almost finished with the last features of the drawing as she sighed heavily placing the notepad away and looking at her phone.
It was Anya, requesting for her to come by her place to talk with her. Amelia hesitated before she moved off the bench and made her way down the narrow pathway leading to the parking lot. The car she owned was almost on its last leg but it was good to her, like an old friend who had been through a lot but still pressed on. She knew the feeling all too well as she pulled out of the lot and took the familiar route to Anya's house.
She sighed to herself as she switched off the radio thinking about the people she drew at the docks. She was wondering why life can't be as simple as that. But she finished the drawing, just like nothing in her life appeared to be finished.139Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ5NsCni5CHi
