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The Painting
#WritcoStoryChallenge
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...suddenly I felt a severe pain in my head as if someone has inserted a thousand needles in it all at once. Ooo the pain…. with great strain I got up ,looked around .There was no one just pitchless silence.I tell you..it could give a dead man another heart attack. Nothing was clear. I was so confused. Why am I here? What this painting is doing in my hands? Am I some thief? It’s interesting that how I could only think of the worst.Well! Fear does it to you. I could be painter…a collector…something honourable. I take a look at the painting,it was a fine masterpiece. Woman with a parasol…A Monet...My hands began to shake for its frame was all broken and now the masterpiece was just lying in my hands..all exposed..naked…uncovered. Vulnerability scares you the most.I tried to recognize the place. It was some art gallery. The walls were adorned with other great artworks.I wanted to get out but still it was not clear that what I was doing there? Why the painting was in my hands and what happened to my head.Did I fell? Or did someone hit me with something?Nothing was clear.But now what to do? I could not shout for anyone. There was no one just infinite darkness.I checked my pockets …thank goodness.....I found a torch.A torch ?where is the phone?Anyways I kept the painting there only,left it on the floor right beneath the place it was hanging. My list was growing….uncertainty…puzzlement…trepidation.. fright….and what not?
I went around to look for some answers. I really wanted to end this gloomy situation. One room led to the other and another and another. This night doesn’t want to end. I found some stairs leading to a room.It was open I went inside ,it was a store. Sculptures, paintings all coming out of their packings as if they too were shocked to see me. Then suddenly a rope caught my eyes. No, it was not something for the exhibition..it was hanging from the vents.I touched it,pulled it.It was tightly secured .Did I come from these vents? Hm…I can’t imagine myself maneuvering all the way in these icy cold ..rat infested vents.But there was no one there besides me.I so direly wanted to get out. I grabbed the rope and tried to pull me up. My agility added to my wonderment for I was up in a few seconds.By God! I am certainly some high class thief.
I was right .I found a bag up there,after searching I discovered that either I or someone else was there to definitely steal the painting. My head was still not clear…so very candidly I attributed this other person with stealing . I sooo wanted to be in clear waters at that moment. I just could not swallow this thief situation at all. I left the bag and moved further.It was a very ,very long vent ,bloody not even straight it kept meandering until I reached the end.I jerked the outer vent a little and it came off.Hmm it was unscrewed obviously. No surprises there.I looked down, a ladder was already adorning the wall.I quickly came down. It was the backside of the gallery. Not a single soul to question my presence out there.I just ran. It seemed to be the best cure at that time .
I saw a bus,must be the last one I signalled it and it stopped. I boarded it and sat on the last seat.I glanced around there was just few passengers. I tried to recollect the events right from the beginning. I remember that last night I went to sleep and I was definitely in my room. I could hear the radio .The news was on. The news reader was uttering some words….gal…..gallery…paint…painting.....New York ……aaaaaaaaa so sleepy and then I could hear a very faint voice coming from out of the bus…..Henry…Henry..HENRY!!!!!!! I felt a pain…again in my head..ooooo….not now….I pressed my eyes …I can feel something on my shoulders . It was very real.As if someone was trying to pull me out of the bus..the stranglehold was getting stronger…help! It was pulling me away …..I don’t want to get down …….I want to go home…….where is my home? Where? I wanted to shout…….I opened my mouth…nooòooooo.
I was sweating……my head was still hurting ….I …I was not in the bus? I was on some bed….my bed? I turned my eyes …I could see everyone…I mean….my mother…father and even my younger brother. They were startled….panicked….confused.But then they all rolled their eyes and walked out .I was in my room. It was a fine Monday morning.My mother was as usual trying to wake me up. I saw in the action my table lamp somehow toppled on my head.There was no painting in my hands .
I was dreaming….again….
The painting was yellowed with rounded edges. It was a masterpiece and it was lying in my hand. Wait, have I stolen it? I don't remember...suddenly I felt a severe pain in my head as if someone has inserted a thousand needles in it all at once. Ooo the pain…. with great strain I got up ,looked around .There was no one just pitchless silence.I tell you..it could give a dead man another heart attack. Nothing was clear. I was so confused. Why am I here? What this painting is doing in my hands? Am I some thief? It’s interesting that how I could only think of the worst.Well! Fear does it to you. I could be painter…a collector…something honourable. I take a look at the painting,it was a fine masterpiece. Woman with a parasol…A Monet...My hands began to shake for its frame was all broken and now the masterpiece was just lying in my hands..all exposed..naked…uncovered. Vulnerability scares you the most.I tried to recognize the place. It was some art gallery. The walls were adorned with other great artworks.I wanted to get out but still it was not clear that what I was doing there? Why the painting was in my hands and what happened to my head.Did I fell? Or did someone hit me with something?Nothing was clear.But now what to do? I could not shout for anyone. There was no one just infinite darkness.I checked my pockets …thank goodness.....I found a torch.A torch ?where is the phone?Anyways I kept the painting there only,left it on the floor right beneath the place it was hanging. My list was growing….uncertainty…puzzlement…trepidation.. fright….and what not?
I went around to look for some answers. I really wanted to end this gloomy situation. One room led to the other and another and another. This night doesn’t want to end. I found some stairs leading to a room.It was open I went inside ,it was a store. Sculptures, paintings all coming out of their packings as if they too were shocked to see me. Then suddenly a rope caught my eyes. No, it was not something for the exhibition..it was hanging from the vents.I touched it,pulled it.It was tightly secured .Did I come from these vents? Hm…I can’t imagine myself maneuvering all the way in these icy cold ..rat infested vents.But there was no one there besides me.I so direly wanted to get out. I grabbed the rope and tried to pull me up. My agility added to my wonderment for I was up in a few seconds.By God! I am certainly some high class thief.
I was right .I found a bag up there,after searching I discovered that either I or someone else was there to definitely steal the painting. My head was still not clear…so very candidly I attributed this other person with stealing . I sooo wanted to be in clear waters at that moment. I just could not swallow this thief situation at all. I left the bag and moved further.It was a very ,very long vent ,bloody not even straight it kept meandering until I reached the end.I jerked the outer vent a little and it came off.Hmm it was unscrewed obviously. No surprises there.I looked down, a ladder was already adorning the wall.I quickly came down. It was the backside of the gallery. Not a single soul to question my presence out there.I just ran. It seemed to be the best cure at that time .
I saw a bus,must be the last one I signalled it and it stopped. I boarded it and sat on the last seat.I glanced around there was just few passengers. I tried to recollect the events right from the beginning. I remember that last night I went to sleep and I was definitely in my room. I could hear the radio .The news was on. The news reader was uttering some words….gal…..gallery…paint…painting.....New York ……aaaaaaaaa so sleepy and then I could hear a very faint voice coming from out of the bus…..Henry…Henry..HENRY!!!!!!! I felt a pain…again in my head..ooooo….not now….I pressed my eyes …I can feel something on my shoulders . It was very real.As if someone was trying to pull me out of the bus..the stranglehold was getting stronger…help! It was pulling me away …..I don’t want to get down …….I want to go home…….where is my home? Where? I wanted to shout…….I opened my mouth…nooòooooo.
I was sweating……my head was still hurting ….I …I was not in the bus? I was on some bed….my bed? I turned my eyes …I could see everyone…I mean….my mother…father and even my younger brother. They were startled….panicked….confused.But then they all rolled their eyes and walked out .I was in my room. It was a fine Monday morning.My mother was as usual trying to wake me up. I saw in the action my table lamp somehow toppled on my head.There was no painting in my hands .
I was dreaming….again….
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