#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...
But, I saw police cars rushing towards my house.
The neighborhood watched as I hid as if I am guilty when in fact, I was scared and confused. I just don't understand. They watched the police run to arrest their speculated thief--which was me.
It was the "Dilaw na Buwan" (Yellow Moon), a famous painting in our place created by a well-respected artist in the country. I cried as I saw how realistic it is. I forgot when everyone said not to look at it. To never look at it. But I did.
They used to warn everyone for whoever looks inside will be a prisoner of the painting's beauty. I was not guilty anymore and my tears fell as it is seeking freedom. I just want to rest like this.
The moon is so beautiful and now, am I hallucinating? Or is it real? I am with the artist who painted it, watching the glowing ball in the middle of the sky.
I asked and apologized, "Will you forgive me for I stole your art?"
Then he said, "I always wanted everyone to look at my art. I was underappreciated."
I was confused more than I am before the police rushed and all those crazy lights created a panic in me.
"Before I did suicide, I mixed the paint with my own tears. Just so I can mean my hurting can also be beautiful, for the last time."