So I read many stories on fanfiction and hopefully know what people look for in a story. I do use Microsoft word as a beta tester so there shouldn't be TOO many mistakes but you never know.

I own nothing||

~October

Spray Paint and ink pens, I use every color I think in

To paint a picture with every rhyme that I speak in.

The galleries the beat.

Red and blue make purple, yellow and blue make green and red and yellow make orange. These are the primary and secondary colors. Normal to most eyes, but to others, completely different. Hundreds of different shades, tints… highlights. Rainbows, the reflection of sunlight against drops of rain or mist and the color scale, organizer of both primary and secondary colors.

Raising the airbrush and pulling the trigger like cocking a gun, released a spray of paint over my canvas. A semi tricked out and suited up for a car show taking place somewhere over the rainbow. Rainbows the reflection of sunlight against drops o- no. I believe I have already said that. I can't help my repeat of words, sentences even conversations. Like Vincent Van Gogh's habit of chewing on his paint brushes had made him completely unstable, is seemingly happening to me. True though, I don't chew on brushes of any sort, but the many years of being in contact with no means of defense against the chemicals in the airbrush paint or any paint really.

When I was still legally a kid, I had been taken to a neurologist to find out any interference in my brain. I was told that I had been exposed to a lot of chemicals found in airbrush and spray paint. Although this maybe true, I refuse to quit airbrushing. Like I said, my reason to communicate is slowly drifting away. I will have constant conversations with myself as if there really was another person with me. Think of it as two people sharing control in one body. I sure put the pun in "become one with yourself." It had increased to yelling and squealing with joy, I have even managed to make myself cry because of what I had said to myself. It must have been pretty offensive if I made myself cry over something that had never happened. The only good thing is I never had gotten physical before.

Shadows out of the corner of my eyes have brought mild paranoia to me. I had once saw something that I and spent five minutes trying to figure out where it was. I ended up barricading myself into my own shop. Don't think I came out for days… well at least it felt like days. It may have been a few hours. I had once saw a shadow out of the co- not again.

It is hard to converse with another person who actually existed. I had a hard time, I can't look people in the eyes some reason, so I end up looking over their shoulder which only cause them to look over there shoulder as if somebody was making faces at the back.

I had never had a bad life, not at all. Parents were strange but normal. I had some friends granted few and not close friends but they kept me from sitting by myself at the lunch table. I was a cute girl, not stunning or beautiful but cute. Cute enough to have a few boyfriends. Ever since my little…. Predicament started, I abandon relationships with people other then my parents. Being twenty one and living in Colorado, I was a great distance from my parents back in Iowa. They hadn't called me in awhile, probably because I'm too paranoid to answer the phone. No, I wasn't scared, just anxious. You would get the best out of me if you talked to me in person.

Enough o my continuous downward spiral into a black hole called insanities peak. Before I begin to repeat myself, I stared at the large truck sizing it up. Almost finished, two more days. Making stencils and placing them on the truck as bullet holes. The commissioner's requirements wanted a prison theme to it, something with cement walls, barbwire, guns and bullets. I must say though, this looks like a prison transportation bus complete with the required cement walls and barbwire I even made small electric zaps on the sharp wire.

Peeling off the stencils, I designed them into holes. " Don't mess up, he will kill you if you do." I said to myself," No! He would never-!" I squeaked fear rising within me," Yes he will! Didn't you see the way he eyed his… baby?" My expression changed from serious to fear stricken," He was? I didn't know! I don't want to die! Oh he wouldn't he couldn't. No no no no no no!" I frantically panicked, " Then watch what your doing! He is everywhere, watching us, stalking us even studying us…" expression changing from serious and command to submission and hyper ventilation," Okay okay I wont mess up. All I have to do is focus, focus yes yes focus is good." I blabbered to myself more, managing to scare myself to stumbled hands. Hell my whole body was shaking.

My phone screamed causing me to scream louder and longer then what is needed. I knock over a chair and toppled over with it. Slowly crawling over to my phone which now lay screen flat on the floor I picked it up as if it would shock me at any given moment," Well answer it Teddy Grahams!" I smarted to myself. Fumbling my phone and quickly answered it like I was addressing the devil himself," Hi h-hello-o?"

I hope it went okay… You don't know the character's name yet I know. You will find out first thing next chapter. Doesn't feel short when you're typing it. I feel like I have been typing for a decade. The quote at the top is from the song Spray paint and Ink pens by Mike Shinoda and Lupe Ghost face Fiasco. Reviews would be helpful.

~ October