[Original fic "Amuse your muse" one + art errr kinda]
Every month I will use one of the weekly prompts down at this site called "Inspire me Thursday"
This month (September) I chose the beautiful works of art done by The Itsy Bitsy Spill. I thought it was beautiful right away and when I started drawing a story started forming in my head to go along with the characters I had drawn :)
Title: Colour my heart
Author/Artist: slowdead
Inspired by: The itsy bitsy spill
Notes: ugh, please don't laugh XD I don't usually draw... I love doing it, but I pretty much suck. I actually think Lucas turned out pretty good (and cute ^__^) and Isabelle turned out the way I wanted her to, which is good too.
Ever since Isabelle was born she hasn’t been able to see any of the colors the world has got to offer. All the efforts her mother had put in her colorful nursery, her colorful room and all the pretty colorful outfits in her wardrobe had pretty much been in vain.
When Isabelle was in elementary school she and her dad moved to another city after her mother had died. Life as the new kid in town was hard enough on it’s own; her mother being dead and the fact that her clothes never quite matched just gave the kids extra ammunition. Her dad tried his best and so she never complained to him. She didn’t want to give him any other reasons to cry.
When she was thirteen they got new neighbors. A big family with a strange last name moved into the small house that had been previously occupied by the White family. A middle aged man, his wife and their dog. They’d moved to a warmer climate. Mrs. White had promised to send cards from time to time. She never did.
The new family was loud and fussy. Isabelle’s father looked down on the way they let their kids play in the front yard and on the street. He’d stand in front of the window, his cup of tea in his hands, and shake his head. Isabelle just sat on her spot on the couch, watching her father watching the neighbors.
One day on her way home from school Isabelle was approached by a tall kid. He had this crooked smile; and a crooked face for that matter. Isabelle scrunched up her nose and gripped the handle of her umbrella tightly.
“I’m Lucas, I live next door to you.”
It was so unexpected that it took a minute for Isabelle to realize it. She griped the handle even tighter, impossibly tight, and continued walking away from the boy.
“Your name is Isabella, right?” He asked as he followed her down the road. She realized, after opening her mouth to speak, that 1) she didn’t exactly know what to say and that 2) since he lived next door to her he was probably headed in the same direction.
So she simply said “Yes.”
When she reached her house she turned to look at him; his smile had gotten even more crooked. She scrunched her nose and walked into the house.
When Isabelle turned fifteen Lucas put a card in her mailbox. After giving it some thought she put it up on her dresser and wrote him a thank you card on the stationary a distant aunt had sent her for her birthday. She put it in his mailbox before going grocery shopping later that same day.
Isabelle once asked her dad what colors are like. He had griped his fork tightly and given her a startled look. She smiled at him crookedly, the way she imagined Lucas would.
He tried to explain but it was all pretty confusing. He was stuttering a lot too and Isabelle had never been someone who enjoyed seeing others’ distress; so she smiled at him again and said it was okay.
The day of his sixteenth birthday Isabelle sent Lucas a card. She was on her way to his house to slip it in the mailbox when he suddenly opened the door. She awkwardly stood there, holding the card that has his name written on it in a curly handwriting.
He told her she was beautiful. “It’s even in your name.” He said, his cheeks got darker which told Isabelle that he was blushing.
“Your face is crooked,” she retorted, “And you’re always smiling.”
“Huh.” The line of his mouth was wobbly and shaky, but still in a-half-smile sort of fashion.
They sat on the porch in silence for a minute or so. Isabella could hear his siblings making a whole lot of noise inside.
“What color are your eyes?” She asked him.
“They’re the same color yours are.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
His smile hit his eyes again. “They’re blue.”
That night Isabella can’t sleep.
“Is the blue of the sky the same type of blue as that of the ocean?”
Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No,” he replied after a lot of thought. “The sea isn’t really blue, it’s more like green.”
“What about water?”
“Water doesn’t have a color.”
She thinks that through. “Oh.”
He turned the page of his newspaper after he saw that she seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Is the blue of your eyes the same blue of my eyes?”
Lucas shook his head. “Not really.”
“My dad says my eyes are like my mother’s… I think that’s why sometimes he gets such a sad look on his face when he looks at me.”
Lucas didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just grinned at her.
On her sixteenth birthday she gets no card. She puts on her shoes, mittens and scarf and goes to the Lucas’ house. On his doorstep, in the snow, Lucas is crying. There’s no sign of the smiles that are usually painting a goofy expression on his face; Isabelle bites her lip. She’s not very good at this.
She sits down next to him on the porch. His brother is hurt, badly. His parents are with him in the hospital.
“Which brother?” She asks.
“Daniel.”
“You have a brother named Daniel?”
His eyes are wide and confused. “He’s… my oldest brother,… with the long hair.”
She tries to remember him. “Didn’t he break your wrist last fall?”
Apparently stuff like that doesn’t matter with siblings because Lucas is still crying. They sit together for a long time and everything starts to feel numb and aching, even her chest. She wishes he’d smile, looking at his tear stained face is more troubling to her than she had ever imagine it would be.
“I can’t see colors.” She tells him suddenly. “The doctors found out when I was six, I didn’t even know there was something wrong with me until they told us. Ever since that day my parents started treating me differently, my mother cried a lot back then. And then one day she died.”
He’s looking at her questioningly.
“But you know that. That I can’t see colors.” She continues. “My father told your mother, and she told you didn’t she?”
He nods.
“But there’s one thing nobody knows. And that I can see one color, in this whole wide world I can see one color.”
His eyes widen and his mouth turns O-shaped. “What is it?”
Isabelle feels the color in her cheeks get warmer. “It’s the blue in your eyes. “
His eyes go wide and a small smile breaks out on his face. “Are you… really?”
“I… at first I didn’t know what color it was, I just knew it wasn’t grey. So then I asked you.”
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
She shrugs and looks down at the snow covering her boots. “I hoped it would make you smile; and when you smile the blue is brighter.”
This month (September) I chose the beautiful works of art done by The Itsy Bitsy Spill. I thought it was beautiful right away and when I started drawing a story started forming in my head to go along with the characters I had drawn :)
Title: Colour my heart
Author/Artist: slowdead
Inspired by: The itsy bitsy spill
Notes: ugh, please don't laugh XD I don't usually draw... I love doing it, but I pretty much suck. I actually think Lucas turned out pretty good (and cute ^__^) and Isabelle turned out the way I wanted her to, which is good too.
Ever since Isabelle was born she hasn’t been able to see any of the colors the world has got to offer. All the efforts her mother had put in her colorful nursery, her colorful room and all the pretty colorful outfits in her wardrobe had pretty much been in vain.
When Isabelle was in elementary school she and her dad moved to another city after her mother had died. Life as the new kid in town was hard enough on it’s own; her mother being dead and the fact that her clothes never quite matched just gave the kids extra ammunition. Her dad tried his best and so she never complained to him. She didn’t want to give him any other reasons to cry.
When she was thirteen they got new neighbors. A big family with a strange last name moved into the small house that had been previously occupied by the White family. A middle aged man, his wife and their dog. They’d moved to a warmer climate. Mrs. White had promised to send cards from time to time. She never did.
The new family was loud and fussy. Isabelle’s father looked down on the way they let their kids play in the front yard and on the street. He’d stand in front of the window, his cup of tea in his hands, and shake his head. Isabelle just sat on her spot on the couch, watching her father watching the neighbors.
One day on her way home from school Isabelle was approached by a tall kid. He had this crooked smile; and a crooked face for that matter. Isabelle scrunched up her nose and gripped the handle of her umbrella tightly.
“I’m Lucas, I live next door to you.”
It was so unexpected that it took a minute for Isabelle to realize it. She griped the handle even tighter, impossibly tight, and continued walking away from the boy.
“Your name is Isabella, right?” He asked as he followed her down the road. She realized, after opening her mouth to speak, that 1) she didn’t exactly know what to say and that 2) since he lived next door to her he was probably headed in the same direction.
So she simply said “Yes.”
When she reached her house she turned to look at him; his smile had gotten even more crooked. She scrunched her nose and walked into the house.
When Isabelle turned fifteen Lucas put a card in her mailbox. After giving it some thought she put it up on her dresser and wrote him a thank you card on the stationary a distant aunt had sent her for her birthday. She put it in his mailbox before going grocery shopping later that same day.
Isabelle once asked her dad what colors are like. He had griped his fork tightly and given her a startled look. She smiled at him crookedly, the way she imagined Lucas would.
He tried to explain but it was all pretty confusing. He was stuttering a lot too and Isabelle had never been someone who enjoyed seeing others’ distress; so she smiled at him again and said it was okay.
The day of his sixteenth birthday Isabelle sent Lucas a card. She was on her way to his house to slip it in the mailbox when he suddenly opened the door. She awkwardly stood there, holding the card that has his name written on it in a curly handwriting.
He told her she was beautiful. “It’s even in your name.” He said, his cheeks got darker which told Isabelle that he was blushing.
“Your face is crooked,” she retorted, “And you’re always smiling.”
“Huh.” The line of his mouth was wobbly and shaky, but still in a-half-smile sort of fashion.
They sat on the porch in silence for a minute or so. Isabella could hear his siblings making a whole lot of noise inside.
“What color are your eyes?” She asked him.
“They’re the same color yours are.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
His smile hit his eyes again. “They’re blue.”
That night Isabella can’t sleep.
“Is the blue of the sky the same type of blue as that of the ocean?”
Her father shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “No,” he replied after a lot of thought. “The sea isn’t really blue, it’s more like green.”
“What about water?”
“Water doesn’t have a color.”
She thinks that through. “Oh.”
He turned the page of his newspaper after he saw that she seemed satisfied with that answer.
“Is the blue of your eyes the same blue of my eyes?”
Lucas shook his head. “Not really.”
“My dad says my eyes are like my mother’s… I think that’s why sometimes he gets such a sad look on his face when he looks at me.”
Lucas didn’t know how to respond to that. So he just grinned at her.
On her sixteenth birthday she gets no card. She puts on her shoes, mittens and scarf and goes to the Lucas’ house. On his doorstep, in the snow, Lucas is crying. There’s no sign of the smiles that are usually painting a goofy expression on his face; Isabelle bites her lip. She’s not very good at this.
She sits down next to him on the porch. His brother is hurt, badly. His parents are with him in the hospital.
“Which brother?” She asks.
“Daniel.”
“You have a brother named Daniel?”
His eyes are wide and confused. “He’s… my oldest brother,… with the long hair.”
She tries to remember him. “Didn’t he break your wrist last fall?”
Apparently stuff like that doesn’t matter with siblings because Lucas is still crying. They sit together for a long time and everything starts to feel numb and aching, even her chest. She wishes he’d smile, looking at his tear stained face is more troubling to her than she had ever imagine it would be.
“I can’t see colors.” She tells him suddenly. “The doctors found out when I was six, I didn’t even know there was something wrong with me until they told us. Ever since that day my parents started treating me differently, my mother cried a lot back then. And then one day she died.”
He’s looking at her questioningly.
“But you know that. That I can’t see colors.” She continues. “My father told your mother, and she told you didn’t she?”
He nods.
“But there’s one thing nobody knows. And that I can see one color, in this whole wide world I can see one color.”
His eyes widen and his mouth turns O-shaped. “What is it?”
Isabelle feels the color in her cheeks get warmer. “It’s the blue in your eyes. “
His eyes go wide and a small smile breaks out on his face. “Are you… really?”
“I… at first I didn’t know what color it was, I just knew it wasn’t grey. So then I asked you.”
“Why haven’t you told me this before?”
She shrugs and looks down at the snow covering her boots. “I hoped it would make you smile; and when you smile the blue is brighter.”
