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Scars of Healing
#WritcoStoryChallenge
#Ntlame
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. My mind and heart are at war. I can feel it. My mind tells me i stole it but my heart says otherwise. But then, where did it come from. Which part of me should i believe?
Searching around the one bed apartment, my eyes landed on a brown cover I assume once held the painting. For some weird reason, it was nicely folded in two, placed on top of my study desk. The adrenaline in my body began to shoot up and my mind ran a race of it's own. Memories now begin to flood; in series of events I long thought I had put past me. Five years ago, as a teenager new to cliques and friendships, I found myself locked in with the wrong crowd. One thing led to another and we robbed a little Art Gallery on 74th Street. Of all seven of us, I was the only one who got caught that day. Six months in prison wrecked me more than I could ever picture play. After that sordid ordeal, I had promised myself never to deal with any unlawful practise!
But the painting still remained. My hands began to quiver, sending chills around my body. I was hyperventilating and the room was growing smaller and smaller by the minute. A slight door knock snapped me to life. The distance to the door seemed a fifity km walk i had little energy to travel.
'Enter! It's open.' Calling out felt like the only wise thing to do. My body felt weaker than it had ever been.
Slowly, the door opened and to my surprise, in entered Julia.
'Hey Mark. I've been trying to call you since morning. Are you okay?' Closing the door, she made her way to the bed. Sitting opposite me.
'ahm....kgm..'
'Are you okay? You can't even answer a simple question. Wait.......' I could feel the weight of her eyes on me and although I hated to admit it, I knew that my sister knew me much better than I even know myself. She could tell that something was wrong. I knew that too but I just felt spaced out as though my soul and body were on separate planets. I was not myself, that much I could tell and as to what was the problem, my mind was blank. Meeting her gaze made me realise that in all her staring her eyes never even once brushed over the gold piece in my hands. A slight anger bellowed in me.
'Mark, did you take your meds today?'
That was it! Reality now hit me. My medication. That was what was wrong with me. How could I not have figured that out? Gently rising from the chair, i lay the picture on the bed beside her and headed for my bathroom cabinet. Searching frantically for my pill bottle, I found it tucked away behind my cologne collection. With the bottle now in hand I headed back to the bedroom, embarassed that I had forgotten to take them. Shame now began to dance it's way to my feelings.
'I'm sorry. My phone died so I didn't hear the alarm ring. I'm sorry Jules'
I was shaking so bad that she had to come over and guide me to sit on the bed.
'It's okay. Believe me. I underst......no no. Don't cry. It can happen to anyone.'
'Sarah came by in the morning bef ...... before my 7am class and asked if I would go with her to collect her purse from the bar opposite campus. We spent close to three hours there because she was getting drunk and nursing a heartbreak. I even skipped class. I'm really sorry.'
'Look baby brother, let me spell it out for you,' the dimples on her cheeks stood well illuminated by the morning sun. ' It is o-k-a-y. Really. It can happen to any of us. But right now i am not worried about that. Tell me, what is this?' She asked, pointing to the picture. By my side now lay the painting. How was I supposed to tell her that I had a masterpiece painting worth $1.7M in my...
#Ntlame
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. My mind and heart are at war. I can feel it. My mind tells me i stole it but my heart says otherwise. But then, where did it come from. Which part of me should i believe?
Searching around the one bed apartment, my eyes landed on a brown cover I assume once held the painting. For some weird reason, it was nicely folded in two, placed on top of my study desk. The adrenaline in my body began to shoot up and my mind ran a race of it's own. Memories now begin to flood; in series of events I long thought I had put past me. Five years ago, as a teenager new to cliques and friendships, I found myself locked in with the wrong crowd. One thing led to another and we robbed a little Art Gallery on 74th Street. Of all seven of us, I was the only one who got caught that day. Six months in prison wrecked me more than I could ever picture play. After that sordid ordeal, I had promised myself never to deal with any unlawful practise!
But the painting still remained. My hands began to quiver, sending chills around my body. I was hyperventilating and the room was growing smaller and smaller by the minute. A slight door knock snapped me to life. The distance to the door seemed a fifity km walk i had little energy to travel.
'Enter! It's open.' Calling out felt like the only wise thing to do. My body felt weaker than it had ever been.
Slowly, the door opened and to my surprise, in entered Julia.
'Hey Mark. I've been trying to call you since morning. Are you okay?' Closing the door, she made her way to the bed. Sitting opposite me.
'ahm....kgm..'
'Are you okay? You can't even answer a simple question. Wait.......' I could feel the weight of her eyes on me and although I hated to admit it, I knew that my sister knew me much better than I even know myself. She could tell that something was wrong. I knew that too but I just felt spaced out as though my soul and body were on separate planets. I was not myself, that much I could tell and as to what was the problem, my mind was blank. Meeting her gaze made me realise that in all her staring her eyes never even once brushed over the gold piece in my hands. A slight anger bellowed in me.
'Mark, did you take your meds today?'
That was it! Reality now hit me. My medication. That was what was wrong with me. How could I not have figured that out? Gently rising from the chair, i lay the picture on the bed beside her and headed for my bathroom cabinet. Searching frantically for my pill bottle, I found it tucked away behind my cologne collection. With the bottle now in hand I headed back to the bedroom, embarassed that I had forgotten to take them. Shame now began to dance it's way to my feelings.
'I'm sorry. My phone died so I didn't hear the alarm ring. I'm sorry Jules'
I was shaking so bad that she had to come over and guide me to sit on the bed.
'It's okay. Believe me. I underst......no no. Don't cry. It can happen to anyone.'
'Sarah came by in the morning bef ...... before my 7am class and asked if I would go with her to collect her purse from the bar opposite campus. We spent close to three hours there because she was getting drunk and nursing a heartbreak. I even skipped class. I'm really sorry.'
'Look baby brother, let me spell it out for you,' the dimples on her cheeks stood well illuminated by the morning sun. ' It is o-k-a-y. Really. It can happen to any of us. But right now i am not worried about that. Tell me, what is this?' She asked, pointing to the picture. By my side now lay the painting. How was I supposed to tell her that I had a masterpiece painting worth $1.7M in my...
