I stared up at the Justin Timberlake poster across my room. The sun hit his face just right ;he looked like he was shining. His beautiful eyes focused on me 24/7 making me feel like the luckiest girl in the world. In real life, I knew that we would never happen, but the fantasy was just that. I've had that poster forever, Justin's head was shaved into a very attractive buzz cut and he had on a tie that was perfectly around his neck. The poster was on my pale green wall that I have been wanting to repaint since I was nine. I wanted pink walls like the color of strawberry yogurt, but my father said there was nothing wrong with green. "Green represents nature."
I rolled my eyes. Green wasn't as cool as it was when I was younger. Green made me feel four, at least pink was more sensual. I knew that one day I could have a handsome boy that could come and sweep me off my feet and wisp me away to another place or possibly my room. I didn't want a boy in this room.

I spread out across my bed, I took my pillow and pulled it into my chest. This summer was going be proactive and I knew that when my dad told me I wasn't going to camp this year and that I should invest myself into something that would have a lasting impact. This was his fancy way of saying job, but I didn't really want to engage with people for more than eight hours. I did that for two semesters sat school. I got him to change his mind and told him that I was an artist and that I would be building my portfolio so I could get into a decent art school. I would be painting all summer. I would possibly write a few songs.

I hung off the edge of my bed and then slide to the floor. The hardwood was freezing, but it gave me that kick that made me more alert. I skipped over to my bathroom and cleaned up. I took my long black hair and pulled it up. I fluffed it out to get that cute messy look. I wanted to wear my free spirit crop top, but it was in my laundry basket so I was wearing a dress. I pulled the French doors of my closet. There was a squeaky noise when one of them moved, but I didn't have time to fix it. I didn't want to fix. I pushed through a few shirts and then grabbed a blue dress cover with pink roses. I smoothed out the wrinkles as best I could. I went to find shoes to match, but I couldn't see a thing under my cluttered floor. I pushed clothes and papers with my feet. I found one pink sandal and then I found the other near the window. I went door stairs passing by the cinnamon air freshers that were a gift to my father for his fiftieth birthday. His placed them randomly throughout the house, but the scent was so strong it was the first thing you smelled when you went came inside the house.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed a red velvet pop tart from the pantry. My father had done the dishes and placed them on the drying rack. I was happy he was contributing to some of the work around the house. He was gone most of the time for work and I was left to do everything. I guess I just wanted him to care and he showed me that he did, by doing the dishes.

I didn't leave the house at a reasonable time, the sun was high and the sky which meant that by the time I made it to the woods it would be scorching hot and the trees would provide some shade, but it wouldn't be enough. I should have left my house at seven, but it's ten thirty. I got out of the house and got in my car to drive to the park. I finished my pop tart on the way and got here at a decent time. I put my portfolio over my shoulder and walked my way into the trees. I should have reduced the stuff inside it because my shoulder was being crushed by ten pounds of paper, pencils, and paint. I shoved all the crap inside because I didn't want more stuff to carry. I just stopped and picked a place.

I pulled out my cotton paper, which was fantastic to draw on, but terrible when you messed up. I picked up my pencils and separated the hard pencils from the brittle ones. I grabbed the 2H pencil. I stared off into the distance and let my pencil guide my hand. I could see trees that went on for miles. There was space in-between each one. There all had different shapes. The greens weren't all the same either. One tree was more of a line green, while the other was more of a dark green; this was because the sunlight hit some of the trees and not others. It was peaceful sitting in the woods drawing trees. I kicked off my shoes. I placed my feet into the dirt. I switched my pencils. I was at peace. I was at least going to get one drawing done, then I would go home and fill them in with watercolor. I shaded some areas with another pencil and then I used a blender.

The birds chirped loudly flying from tree to tree. I heard the squirrels run through the dirt, grabbing whatever plant on the ground and then run away again. I wanted them to stay still for at least a few minutes so I could get them in my piece, but they were too active. I gave up on them a minute or so in. I wished I hadn't of drawn half on one onto my paper. The sun starting beating down on me hard. I still had another few hours out here and wasn't going to be done until at least one o'clock. My toes were getting warm. I had to change positions, thus changing my view. I could fake my picture. I picked the 2H pencil again.

A deer came into view eating a plant I could only barely make out. It barely moved bobbing its head only a few seconds. I sketched him fast. I picked up a darker pencil to define the shape. I heard a bang, then it happened.
The deer feel to its side making a crash sound as it hit the leaves. I jumped to my feet and ran to it. The poor creature was unresponsive. I touched him and he twitched and then stiffened.

"Where did you come from?" A young blonde came rushing to the scene. He had a rifle in his right hand. I looked up at him. He looked worried and confused. "Well, are you all right?" He looked tense.

"Why, did you kill this dear?" I asked. I stroked the poor creature's body. I stopped at the gunshot wound. The blonde looked confused.
"Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine!" I yelled. He stepped back clutching his rifle. "It was innocent! And you killed it!"

"I have the right to do whatever I want. It was in my view and I shot it!" He yelled back.

"This creature had feelings, it probably had a family."

"You don't know that."

"Neither do you. You just kill anything you wish."

"No, and I came over here to make sure that you weren't hurt. I'm on a hunting trip with my buddies. We haven' had much luck and this was the first deer we got."

"Maybe you should pick a new hobby. Maybe you should pick up golf."

"I do that too, but I like to mix things up." He smiled at me. His teeth were white and straight. He eyes partly closed as he grinned. When he opened his eyes, I could see that they were a beautiful blue. He was the blue-eyed monster.

"Listen, I am sorry about the deer. I'm going to eat it if it makes you feel better."

"No, it doesn't, but I hope you have a nice meal." I stood up and began walking back to my spot.

"I really am sorry." He said.

"Whatever," I said.

"I'm John, by the way." He said. He smirked and pushed his hair back with his free hand. He pushed the rifle into the ground.

"I never asked your name."

"I know, but I thought you should know. What's your's?"

"Why do yo need to know."

"I like to know the name of all the people I meet. We may meet again."

"I hope we don't."

"You don't believe in destiny?"

"I do."

"Then you should believe we may meet again. So, your name?

"Pocahontas."