Even though Mary tried to kill Garry and her, Ib felt sorry for that girl. Mary was just lonely, and loneliness could drive people to do some pretty crazy things. And when Mary wasn't trying to murder, she was actually a really nice person to be with. If Garry, Ib, and Mary had met under different circumstances, Ib was completely certain that they would have definitely been friends, and be together smiling happily ever after.
Sighing, Ib flopped down on her bed, and stared up at the glow-in-the-dark star stickers on the ceiling. It's been several months already. Why wouldn't she just let it go? But still... She wished things could have turned out differently. If she had tried to be more friendly to Mary. If she had tried to be less friendly to Mary. There were so many things she could have done, but didn't, and one of them might have lead to a happy ending.
Turning around on the bed, Ib stared out the window, into the dark sky. Glimmering, far in the distance, was a pinprick of light. The first star of the night, a wishing star. Closing her eyes, Ib made a wish. If only there was a way to...
Ib drew her brow together. No, she's not going to wish for a way for them all to be together forever. That was too unrealistic. She didn't want to tire out the poor wishing star. She'll wish for something more realistic. Something...
I wish I could see Mary again.
Pressing her eyelids tightly together, she whispered it under her breath again and again until she fell asleep.
The next morning, she woke up; her mind still hazy with the fog of sleep, and the remnants of her dreams. Her dreams swirled and blended together. Garry painted Mary while Mary and Ib ate sandwiches together. Mary kept on wandering over to Garry, and telling him she was being drawn all wrong, and Ib kept telling Garry how horrible his sandwiches are. Garry was pouting, and Mary was laughing. Ib found herself drifting over to a canvas, and painting Mary. The painting of Mary was soon finished, and Mary grinned at her, telling Ib how much better than Garry's picture it was, and how it was practically like a mirror. Then, suddenly, it was a mirror, and mimicked Mary's movements. Mary laughed, and so did Ib. Ib reached in, and took Mirror-Mary out, and everyone danced and played together.
When Ib finally woke up completely, she knew what to do. Idea fresh in her mind, she glanced up at her calendar. "May 1st" it proclaimed.
"May 1st," Ib solemnly announced. "I should remember that. May 1st shall be a very special day."
"Ib, are you going to come down?" a faint voice shouted, taking Ib out of her thoughts. "Breakfast is ready!"
Hurrying downstairs, Ib ate breakfast, hurried to school, and spent the entire school day daydreaming about her absolutely brilliant idea.
After school, when Garry arrived in his old, beaten-up van to pick her up, Ib climbed in. As she buckled in her seat belt, she asked, "Can I use your paints and stuff?"
"Sure," Garry replied agreeably. "Why do you need it?"
Ib smiled slightly. "It's a surprise," she replied evenly. In a slightly more hurried tone, she added, "Now drive like there's a painted lady behind you. I really want to start painting soon."
Garry smiled, glancing at Ib's eager face on the rear view mirror. "I understand your excitement, but I need to drive carefully," he replied evenly, slowly turning the car through the city streets.
Ib slumped down. "You drive like an old lady..." she grumbled as Garry stopped the car to let a cat pass.
A loud honk, however, surprised Garry, and with a jolt, he pressed down on the pedal, and the car sped forward quickly.
After an incredibly terrifying journey, Ib finally arrived at Garry's house. Shakily, she left the car, and wobbled into the house. However, as she moved towards the house, her steps became surer, and soon, she had fully recovered, and ran to Garry's storage room.
Stepping over various boxes of unfinished works and paints, Ib examined various paints and canvases. After inspecting the materials several ties, Ib took the newest looking paints, the largest canvas, and hauled them out of the small, dusty room.
"What do you plan on painting?" Garry asked as he walked pass with arms full of groceries.
Ib grunted in reply as she shoved the canvas against a wall with a loud boom. Color draining from his face, Garry whimpered, "M-my canvas... My wall."
Clearing his throat, Garry smiled, and suggested "H-how about you let me set up your art space for you? Let me just finish putting away my groceries."
"Don't worry, it's okay," Ib replied confidently.
"No it's not..." Garry breathed, looking mournfully at the wall. Seeing Ib's confused expression, Garry smiled again, and told her, "Nothing."
Ib nodded, satisfied with the answer, and sat down in front of the white canvas: neck craning up, eyes glaring at the canvas with determination, and paintbrush clenched tightly in hand. Squeezing yellow paint out of a tube, she glared fiercely at the paint and jabbed the paintbrush on it. Ib closed her eyes, and brought Mary's grinning face to her mind. Image vividly embedded, she lovingly approached the canvas, placed her brush on the canvas, and began to carefully paint an image of one she held dear.