The canvas was beginning to gain color. I thought about all of my pain, sadness, sorrow and rage. Each color I added symbolized a new emotion, one worse and more negative than the others. Every stroke removed a layer of hurt and pain, slowly making me become numb. The emotions danced off of my skin and onto the painting. I could hear my siblings and mom downstairs, but I wasn't about to join them. I wasn't done, and until I was done, then I'd be staying up here.
I stepped back and looked at the canvas, which was now full of color. The colors weren't bright, they were dull and dark. The canvas was full of blues, reds and blacks/greys. The blue symbolized my sadness and sorrow, the red was my rage and anger and the black and greys were my pain and hollowness. All of my emotions were spilled onto the canvas, it was me. I was the canvas and the colors were my emotions. Now my body was a shell, I was completely numb.
The numbness had taken entirely over me. I had lost my emotions. The happiness and love left a long time ago, now the hurt, anger and sadness had left. I had cried all my tears, there was nothing left in me. I ws just a shell of a girl, who I used to know well. I was a ghost of that smiling and laughing girl. Despite the fact that my other brother and father were alright. I was just hurt and injured, though the numbness had taken over.
I was now in complete control, which was something I needed. I always had to be in control, which was why I loved painting, because I had control over the outcome. I controlled the paintbrush and what colors were used. I took a deep breath and left the attic. I was in control and I loved that. It gave a rush, even though my emotions were gone.