A/N: I don't know why I decide to feel like writing around the hours of 8 and 9 o.e maybe because all I really want to do is chill and listen to music and I have these awesome stories roaming through my brain. Or maybe because I'm sick of school and need to just escape into a world of fantasy (no one judges me there!) anyway, without further adieu, I present to you, "Blank Canvas".

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I watched as the raindrops raced down my window, thunder rolling far into the distance. My teachers had given me no work to do for once I got home, so I had nothing better to do than sit in my room; secluded from the rest of my family. I didn't enjoy being around my mother like I did when I was nine, and father was never really around anyway. He was working two jobs to pay for this mansion, and never really had time for mother and I. And honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if she were seeing someone else while he was gone, and I was locked away up here.

My grandmother also stayed with us, but I believe she's closer to the maids then she is to her daughter. My grandfather had passed away shortly after I turned ten; grandmother was heartbroken. Mother really did try to piece her back together, but being close to her only reminded her of grandfather; so they could never handle each other.

I'm thirteen now, in the beginning of eighth grade. It had taken me years to convince my mother to let me go to a public school. "The children who go to public schools are a bad influence! I won't have them rubbing off on you, Ib." After a while, she finally gave in. I didn't mind going to a public school actually. The teachers aren't too bad… I don't really get along with the other girls; I can't tell if they think I think I'm too good, or if they think I'm not good enough. It was probably these clothes my mother picks out for me; all these fancy skirts and ribbons to tie my hair up.

I didn't like them, in fact I hated them. I found myself wondering what it would be like to be… normal. All this money I'm sure has gotten to my mother's head and it's the only thing keeping her tied to father now-a-days. There was no love in this house, no inspiration, and I found myself having no ambition to do anything. I guess you could say I was depressed, and I'd much rather live away from this fancy house with its fancy things; I didn't want any of it.

I had always wanted a cabin somewhere; I have no idea where the idea came from. I wanted something simple and pure; something to inspire something inside me. I've always loved art, art of all kinds. Sculptures, paintings, dance, theatre, music, and the gardens gifted to us by Mother Nature. It was as if God had just taken a paint brush and whipped it at a blank canvas with all the colors of the rainbow; and out came these beautiful fields of flowers.

I promised myself the second I turned eighteen, I would build my own little cabin in the middle of a field. A place where forests just stretched out for miles and miles. Most girls my age imagined falling in love and having their husbands work, while they took care of the kids. I imagined living off the land all on my own… what a dream…

Someone knocked at my door, one of the maids I was sure. A soft voice spoke from behind it, "Mistress Ib, supper will be ready shortly; you best wash up."

The way she spoke brought a smile to my face. Who had I heard speak like that before making me smile? I stood up not bothering to respond because I had already heard her scurry down the hall to my mother's shrill voice; maybe she dropped something and made a mess. I changed into my red lace dress, one that hugged my fragile body at the top and flared out at the bottom.

This was one of mother's favorite dresses on me. I felt more like a doll to her than an actual person sometimes. Letting out a sigh, I slipped red ballet flats with small red bows on the ends onto my tiny feet. All the clothes my mother picked out for me were a red of some sort, but that was something I didn't really get sick of. I loved the color; when I see it I don't feel anger, I see passion.

As I walked into the bathroom that was attached to my bedroom, my lightning flickered, and all of a sudden my lights went out. I wasn't sure whether to be frightened or not. Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and there was a tiny clap of thunder. I shrugged it off and proceeded to the sink where the mirror hung so I could see my torso and up. There was a vent in the linoleum floor that allowed me to hear everything downstairs. It was strangely quiet for some reason…

Again, I shrugged it off and turned the warm water on in the sink so I could wash my face; but nothing came out. The handle was stiff, and the more I jiggled it, the stupider I started looking. Maybe there's a clog in the pipes.

Stepping out of my bathroom and back into my bedroom, something felt different. Something in the atmosphere had changed that made it seem almost eerie. The thunder and lightning had stopped, the only sound outside was the wind and the slight drizzle of raindrops on the roof. I heard a quiet click from across my room. On top of my mahogany dresser sat a music box given to me by my grandfather before he passed. It opened all on its own and began to play a lullaby that I didn't recognize…

Another click… my door creaked open just enough to see out into the hall. "H…Hello?"

There was no reply, just the lullaby that seemed to have gotten louder the longer I let it play. I stomped over to the music box, and then stopped to look inside. At the bottom of the box sat a folded up slip of paper. I took it out and opened it up, and out fluttered something small and blue. I read the slip of paper as I bent down to pick up the object that had fallen:

Waiting.

Waiting? What could that mean? What was waiting? I looked down and in the palm of my other hand was a blue rose petal. I set the note down and brushed my fingertips against it. It hadn't been damaged at all from the fall or from being folded up in the slip of paper; as if it had just fallen from the flower. My door creaked open more all on its own. Something about this eerie feeling was so familiar; I just couldn't put my finger on it. As I walked up to my door that lead out to the hallway, I stepped in something wet. I looked down at my feet to discover a red liquid now sticking to the bottom of my shoe. Was this… blood? I inhaled through my nose taking a big breath of air… no… this wasn't blood… it was paint. Red paint outside of my door and a trail of it lead down the hall.

I followed it holding the rose petal in my fist tightly. There wasn't a maid in sight, which was strange because mother would have at least one escort me everywhere. Further and further I walked down the hall, until the paint stopped at a dead end of the hall. Why was their paint going into a wall? I opened my fist to glance back down at the rose petal, but it had vanished, and in its place was another note. I unfolded it and read:

Come find me Ib.

Come find you? Come find you where? And who am I even looking for!? I tore the piece of paper up in frustration and threw the shreds at my feet. Looking down I noticed a blue piece of chalk. I picked it up… then look back to the wall. Bold red letters had been painted on the wooden wall:

Door.

Door… Door… I looked back at the piece of chalk then back at the wall…

Door. I pressed the chalk against the wall as hard as I could and started tracing the outline of a rectangle as tall as I could make it. The chalk crumbled in my hand and I felt the house shake. I steadied myself up against the wall on the right and shut my eyes tightly. When the shaking stopped, I opened them. There was an open space where I had drawn my rectangle just tall enough for me to walk through. I stepped up to it and inside there was nothing but emptiness. Darkness all around and I was too frightened to move forward.

Then, a light started to shine far off into the distance. I wasn't sure what exactly it was, but it felt warm and inviting. I completely forgot there was no floor under where the door had started, and started walking toward it. The closer I got, the safer I felt. But then, the light disappeared, and I couldn't see at all. Now I know what being blind felt like, and deaf too; for there wasn't a sound anywhere. I took another step and suddenly, there was a loud shattering noise that made my eardrums pound. I screamed as the invisible floor from underneath me broke, and I was falling into an endless pit of nothingness.

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A/N: Oh dear lord, did I just spend two hours writing? I think I did! Be sure to R/R, and if this really isn't your cup of tea, be sure to check outs some of my other work! Thank you :3