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General



Success is like a golden blanket that shines over you when you accomplish your life goals but ways down on you, when mistakes are made; nothing but the feeling of crushed emotions fills your eyes as you yourself feels like a failure as the feeling of defeat holds tightly to you. Turning your once shining blanket of gold to a dark heavy, weighing you down, creating you to feel sorry for yourself. With little Tommy Sage, there were no exception. 


With a BANG, the bedroom door now lays still on the ground. The musty room smells of desperation and lost hope, everything was exactly the same as he had left it before he had gone to college. Frustration fumes as he takes in a good gander of his childhood bedroom, memories come floating back with a wave of nostalgia. The same navy blue curtains dance from the air conditioning, the golden blanked sits patiently on the bed, almost daring him to hold it. 


Photographs pinned to the wall adjacent from the off hinged door, sets him into a furry. 


His eyes grew wide every time he smiled into the camera, he was once known as a painting prodigy, it just came natural to him when he was a child. He never put much thought into his work until it was done; overthinking your work while still in progress is a artist nightmare. Unfortunately now that he’s in college, he just can’t seem to compete with his younger self. It’s almost like he peaked too early, now he could barley pick up a paint brush without being haunted of all his awards. Life seemed easy being eight and winning competitions against adult professionals, he had a few master pieces in a couple museums. 


“Thomas!.....the door!” She shrieks with a horrified expression.


“The hinges must have been weak” he mumbles as he stares at all the ribbons and trophies from his childhood.


He thought going to a professional art college was going to be a cake walk, considering his childhood painting experience. Stepping into the real world really opened his eyes, as the pressure of his childhood sat over him, his professors expected him to rise to a much higher level. He unfortunately just couldn’t handle the pressure, as he gave up trying as all he did was think to much and second guess. His parents were especially disappointed when they found out that their golden son was kicked out of school for lack of talent. 


“You have put this family through enough with your silly games Thomas. I suggest that you unpack your things and work on a master piece until your father gets home.” Disappointment seeps through her voice as she slowly leaves the room.


“How did I get to this point?” He questions himself as he chucks his large black suit case on the bed, causing a blanket to fall. The silky gold texture catches his eye, the memory from when he had gotten the blanket burns through his mind. 


“A golden blanket for a very golden future, my boy” his father had said with the world’s brightest smile, he was truly proud of him, and now he tries desperately to avoid him.


This blanket is a reminder of his father’s disappointment, the way it lays on the floor, almost teasing him for his lack of inspiration he had had for the past couple years. 


He grumbles as he hastily picks it up, it feels heavier than usual. He takes a good look at it, for some reason it looks black; possibly filled with all his failures and incomplete assignments, all just dancing through his mind, like a nonstop reminder of what he used to be. 


Frustration fuels his body as he unconsciously grabs his painting supplies, for the first time in years, he didn’t have anyone over his shoulder, acting like a back seat painter, constantly getting critiques before his work is done. The anger built as he continues to swipe a mixture of colour on the canvas, giving it life. Inspiration fills his mind as there were nobody around to pollute his thoughts, it was like he was in a trance, immersed into that world. Nothing but him and the artwork; his safe place. 


Hours had gone by, he hadn’t noticed that his father had gotten home from work or that he’d missed diner, he didn’t care about any of that, for the first time in a while, he was truly happy. Nothing puts a smile on his face like mindlessly creating something, something that puts smiles on other peoples faces. That was all he ever cared about back when he was a kid, as he had gotten older, stress had gotten in the way. Strangers, professors, even his parents expected him to go off to college, creating these beautiful pictures that nobody has ever seen. Sometimes people do their best work when there is no pressure, but just simply for pleasure.


The murky water sits idle as the brushes wade inside, leaving its colour to contaminate. His face full of pride once he finishes his piece. The moon shines from the window as the wolves howl, alerting him to realize how much time had gone by. Pride flows through his body as he realizes that he’s still talented, that he had it in him the whole time, he just tried too hard. 


“Hey come look at my work” His voice lingers of joy as he takes a step back to get a better look of what he had done.


“What happened to the door!” Thunders Thomas’s father, by the look on his face, Thomas knew that it wouldn’t be easy to please his father ever again. Bewilderedness blazed through those stone cold eyes as he steps closer to the aisle. 


“Nice to see you dad.” He mumbles, as he gulps, waiting impatiently for his fathers’s critiques, as he shifts nervously from foot to foot.


Moments of deafening silence screams by as Tommy awaits for his father’s opinion of his artwork.


Anticipation chokes the air as mother and son both unconsciously hold their breath as the older man begins to speak his truth. The clock ticks three times louder than usual, the wolves’ howls sound as if their coming from inside the house.


Finally, he turns, facing his son. Is that?....it is. 


Tommy’s heart beat quickens as a tear silently slides down his mother’s face.


With a hand on his son’s shoulder, “this is the talent I know you have. I proud of you Thomas.” The quick, stern voice echos down the hallway.

A bit later as Thomas grabbed onto his golden blanket, the dark black heaviness seems to disappear as if it were never there. With a quick peek, he becomes shocked to see it once again the shiny golden colour. The very colour it had been the entire time. Life is like that sometimes, where when your trying to chase something, you sometimes play mind games and see things that aren’t really there. Thomas Sage had the ability to paint magnificently the whole time he was simply just second guessing himself with the illusion that he had lost his talent from when he was a kid.


 


January 31, 2020 23:17

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