Zakia
I stare at my blank 35 by 46 white canvas contemplating on what to make for this Art gallery. I honestly didn't believe I would be elected to enter, but I was. I was after Seth had made me a deal. The deal was that I enter the Art Gallery and if I don't make a single dime, he would buy my painting from me. So, it’s a deal and Seth even threw in an ice cream date as well. He and I are doing incredible.
It's been a good two weeks since Nubia bitched us out about how I and Zadia had been treating her since she got back from rehab. I do admit, we did treat her like a fragile baby. Except when I told her that horrible lie. I don't know why I told such a bad lie. Well, I think in my mind, I just wanted him hurt. Like he unknowingly hurt me. I don't know. It was wrong though.
I pick up my favorite lavender color medium sized paint brush and dip it in the blue paint. I make a ridiculous stroke on the canvas with a sigh. I only have the one and I am not allowed another. I need to make this count, but with that silly blue stroke on it. I figured I can try and make it work. Back to Nubia.
We have all done our wrongs in this family. Daddy with his affair with Ms. Ava. Me, not knowing how to vocalize what I want in fear of being told no. Nubia, for acting out in anger; I'll get to that. And Zadia... I am not sure if she had done anything but try to be hot in the ass with every boy who showed interest in her. We have all but mama did our dirt and we have paid for it.
I dip my brush in a baby blue color and I am careful not to get paint on the rug. I do another stupid stroke but in a different direction. I take a step back and examine my work.
I shrug, "Hmm. Not bad."
I don't know why Zadia thought she could get away with trying to sneak boys in her room. I laugh to myself. Her room was right next to our parents' room. She chose that room. We were only a few years old when we moved into our last house and she chose it because it was bigger. I shake my head.
"What in the fuck can I do with these two strokes?" I yell at myself and slam the paint brush down. I stare at the canvas and the two stupid strokes begin to dance about.
I know why Nubia turned out the way she did. She wasn't always a hard and bad ass. From the early years, I remember Nubia was soft and sensitive to what others felt. Nubia started acting up when Sirrah had left. Our father tried to explain to us why she had to go, but Nubia truly didn't understand. Nubia confided in me about how she felt. I kind of already knew how she felt with us being twins and all. Zadia on the other hand, I’m not sure how she felt about Sirrah. I think she felt like daddy had betrayed mama. But, she didn't treat Sirrah any different.
I pick the brush back up. Seeing the strokes dance, I dip my brush into the red, green, and yellow and begin making strokes in every direction until the paint on the brush ran out.
Nubia took it the hardest when Sirrah had to go. Sirrah was Nubia's little baby doll. I smirk. Nubia would always be around Sirrah and play with her, feed her, change her, she was the mama. Nubia shut down, just completely. Nubia didn't wanna listen to mama or daddy about anything. She began sneaking out at night, smoking, dealing drugs. She hit rock bottom. Bad. I felt like Sirrah was Nubia's only saving grace. Daddy and mama even went out to look for Sirrah to get her back after a few months of Nubia acting out. They realized that Sirrah meant so much to Nubia. But, Ms. Ava had done something so triflin that I don't even want nothing to do with her. Ms. Ava basically sent Sirrah off to an orphanage in a different state. I didn’t even think that could have been done without the other parent’s consent.
I take another glance at my canvas. I am not sure what it's going to look like when I am done. I just hope it's good enough to be sold. I continue to switch colors.
I mean who does that? Send their child to an orphanage in a different state? My theory is Ms. Ava knew daddy was going to go back and get Sirrah and for some fucked up reason, she didn't want him to do that. She didn't want him to keep Sirrah. Til this very day, I will never know why unless I actually speak to Ms. Ava myself. And that would be a chance in hell, that I would do that. A COLD FUCKING CHANCE IN HELL.
"A COLD FUCKING CHANCE IN HELL!" I scream as I give the canvas the last few strokes. I put my now feathered paint brush down and look at the painting. "It looks like anger." I clap my hands. "I love it."654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1pYx1NXQgh
"Who the hell have you been talking to, Zakia?" Zaida ask through my closed door.654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvfQY5PS9D7
"Uh, I was in a creative debate with my painting."654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIMyad1MbsN
"That better be all you were doing. We don't need another one going to rehab. Daddy ain't got that kind of money."654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2MX1HCr7xJ
"Shut the hell up." I swing the door open. "If anyone needed to go to rehab, it would be your fast ass. As many abortions you had."654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPWpF1bg3P6
Zadia's eyes widen. "Shh, shhhh. Okay. Please. I will leave you alone." She walks down the hallway and down the stairs.654Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡowKUMO9sjO
I close my door and sit on my bed. That story with Zadia is something to tell for another day. I curl up on my bed and fall asleep with what Ms. Ava did still floating around my brain space.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
