The emotions were profoundly felt as the woman painted a mass of auburn red on a blank canvas. A face was barely visible while the skin colors blended together, clearly a person. Two sky-blue dots appeared around the center of this unknown face, what would come to be two laughing eyes. Too familiar eyes. Jagged lines outlined the jaw and the small cheekbones, then the sharp yet childish nose made its way to the surface. As a last touch, a set of full pink lips were added to the collage of colors.

The woman took a step back, and finally realized what she had painted. A small girl with her red hair braided back, her two plainly blue eyes stuck out like a sore thumb, and her round lips seemed to add to the familiarity of the person staring right back at the painter. Manuela.

Elisabeth von Bernburg touched the edges of the canvas lightly before turning away. Although conflicted, she knew exactly what she had turned to. The rest of her paintings. Well, the rest of her hidden pieces that is. After the former teacher had left the school, she found an apartment not too far from the school itself. Subsequently settling in, she decided to take up painting, a skill she always had but chose to put away in order to teach.

She started with landscapes, then moving to still lifes, eventually picking up right where she left off those many years ago. One evening, she heard a knock on her door and opened it to a man dressed in a painter's smock over a wrinkled suit and a full head of hair. That was the start of her career as a painter because that man happened to be the owner of the town's gallery. Soon, even some of the most empty walls of the gallery became the home to the woman's works.

When sales were quite high, people started demanding portraits. Elisabeth herself had never even attempted to paint a person, in fear that it was an invasion of privacy, but she needed to pay the rent somehow, so began the painting of people. One dull afternoon, after painting for about five hours, the former teacher sat rocking in her chair reading a book. Suddenly, she realized that she had been reading over the same line repeatedly and she felt a compulsive desire to paint a face.

She began with the hair, then the skin, the eyes, and the nose made their way. At last the lips, full and pink as the sky while the sun set. Elisabeth immediately reached for her cheek. It was burning. An unanticipated flutter inside her stomach made her run across the hall to the bathroom.

She stared herself over in the mirror. She was completely flushed, her eyes dilated, her cheeks pinker than her lips. What was this? Why? The woman thought as she turned back to the room she has so hurriedly left. She had never felt like this while painting.

This time, she slowly made her way across the hardwood floors of the hall, closing her eyes as she turned the corner to that blessed room. Her eyes opened to the very painting that would become one of dozens.

Elisabeth could only stare at what she had painted, and better yet, who. There stood Manuela in all her beauty and childlike innocence. Out of all people, why her? Why the one person she had so longed to forget? Elisabeth had tried to convince herself the past months of recovery that her conscience was completely clear, that she couldn't possibly have-No. She couldn't. Never. She left the room immediately, grabbed her coat, and walked out the front door. Maybe a bit of fresh air would rid her memory of this girl.

The memory never left. It, in fact, became more prominent, became the living breathing drive of Elisabeth's very thoughts and inspiration. Night after night, Manuela appeared in her dreams. Her with those light, Prussian blue eyes, and those full, pink, round lips. Slowly, Elisabeth became attached to someone she would never see again. Someone she would never be able to love or to be with. Every now and again, this known fact would penetrate her composure like popping a bubble, but she tried not to focus on it too much. And so the inner struggle of a blooming artist and a former teacher began, and so it stayed for the next two years.

The woman finally snapped out of her transfixed state and checked the time. Early in the morning, at 3 am to be precise. I should have gone to sleep hours ago she mentally chastised herself. The former teacher had forgotten she had an exhibition tomorrow. Finally, after being displayed in the gallery for two years will people finally know who the painter is.

Washing all the paint off her hands, turning out the lights, and finally getting under her covers, Elisabeth smiled at the thought of the girl she had just painted.

AN/ Wow, so I just decided to rewrite this chapter entirely and without realizing it, I stayed up for four hours writing it. Not that it bothers me in the least bit, but I didn't expect to finish it all in one go! Anywho, besides my mental health deteriorating, I hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of my Madchen in Uniform extended ending. My apologies if this chapter was shorter than you maybe expected, but I'm hoping to make the next chapters longer because I also have to introduce what has happened to the other characters in the two years we missed!

Super Big Shoutout to canijust-saysomethingcrazy for literally writing the epiphany of fanfictions. This person right here is the prominent reason I am sitting here writing this. Their fanfiction is so amazing, please please please go check it out. It's called Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged here's a link:

/s/12380642/1/Thus-from-my-lips-by-yours-my-sin-is-purged

I just wanted to make sure they get the credit they deserve considering I'm using some of the elements from their fanfic. Thanks, and I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can. In the meantime listen to this because it's absolutely beautiful:

/rtxT-bn18OY