Indeed, It Was Over | Teen Ink

Indeed, It Was Over

April 23, 2011
By Odessa_Sterling00 DIAMOND, No, Missouri
Odessa_Sterling00 DIAMOND, No, Missouri
87 articles 108 photos 966 comments

Favorite Quote:
All gave some, some gave all. -War Veterans headstone.

Black paint drips from her hands. She has been painting again, and I know her nice jeans are forever ruined.

“Can I get you a wash cloth?” I take a step towards Callia. Callia mean beautiful in Greek, and whoever named her was smart.

Callia’s beauty was different than what you see in a magazine or on a TV screen. Her dark green eyes were like olives. Her long black hair was like raven’s feathers, someone once told me before I met her, but the second I met her I knew it was crow’s black. Her skin was smooth never a blemish marked it. Her lips ripped from an angel’s face and placed perfectly on her. Her nose turned up the right amount and stuck out just right. Callia’s attitude made her seem prettier, too. She walked gracefully, head held high, shoulder’s back, and her long legs took long strides. She rarely spoke, but when she did her voice floated upon the air currents, making a chill go down my spine. It was like a beautiful, yet deadly, demon voice, saying a warning.

She shook her head. The black painted smeared across her hands dripped like blood to her tight jeans. She wiped her hands on her jeans, smearing the drip marks. She strutted past me, turning into the front parlor. I didn’t follow, because I knew she was going in there to read her “book”. Callia brought with her nothing but a big burgundy colored leather book. I had never looked in it, she kept it locked. Everyday, after she had finished painting, she would read it, if I entered the room while she was reading she would close it, hug close to her chest, and glare at me till I left.

Callia lives in the same dormitory as me, although I’ve never seen her go to her classes. I asked her about it once, but she ignored me, like she did most the time when I asked her something.

I heard footsteps and saw Justice walking out of the kitchen, a sandwich on a paper plate in her hands. She saw and walked over.

“What are you doing?” She stopped in front of me. Justice’s short brown hair was messy, her lipstick bright red, and her clothes nice.

“I was standing here when Callia came out of the studio,” I nodded towards the closed door. It was a public studio, but we rarely went in there because it was filled with all of Callia’s painting supplies.

“You know what I want to do?” Justice’s face lit up, she glanced in the direction of the parlor then jerked her head towards the studio down the hall. I understood. She sat her sandwich on a side table in the hall and we walked silently down the hall. She turned the knob and opened the door silently. It swung inward silently and we stepped inside.

The room’s windows were covered with heavy quits and canvas’s were propped up everywhere and the few easels had paintings on them. The wide walnut table in there was covered with everything a professional painter would need. Justice stepped closer to a painting completed on an easel. I had glanced at it quickly, but something in the middle caught my eye. I looked over Justice’s shoulder. It was like a black hole, drawing me in. The more I looked at, more color’s flowed around in it, like a swirling pot of black with colorful ribbon’s hidden in it, that showed every now and then. Something was at the bottom, and I could almost see it.

“What are you doing?” A voice made me and Justice jump. We turned to see Callia standing angrily in the door way. Her eyes were fiery green, scarier than anything I had ever seen.

“This is a p-public studio,” Justice stuttered. “So we are allowed to be in here.”

“I’ll show you public,” Callia mumbled stepping into room, shutting the door quietly behind her. She jumped at Justice first, so anyone in the dormitory who heard screaming, it was from me. I remember knotting my fingers in Callia’s hair trying to pull her off of Justice who was curled up on the floor under her. It was like trying to pick up a stone temple. I remember the fear pulsing through my vein instead of blood. Callia spun around growling at me, and I felt like I was in a cage with a lion. I wouldn’t win, I knew I couldn’t. I knew it was over, before it was over and indeed it was over.

The author's comments:
Something to spice up my list.

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This article has 2 comments.

on Apr. 30 2011 at 11:41 am
Odessa_Sterling00 DIAMOND, No, Missouri
87 articles 108 photos 966 comments

Favorite Quote:
All gave some, some gave all. -War Veterans headstone.

Thank you, I will.


PJD17 SILVER said...
on Apr. 29 2011 at 8:29 pm
PJD17 SILVER, Belleville, Illinois
8 articles 0 photos 624 comments

Favorite Quote:
I do the best imatation of myself- Ben Folds

This was really really really good  keep it up   i really liked this   could you please check out and comment on my story Numb. i would really appreciate the feedback