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I lay in my bed and looked up at the ceiling. I did not sleep. It was not that I did not need to but I was scared to. I had a great control over my thought emotions and my memories. However when I sleep I did not know how my control would last. I had lived a long time and I had seen and experienced many things. Not all of them were good.
I decide to go to my old art room to take my wondering mind off of negative thoughts. I change out of my formal afire and into my old art clothes. As I finished dressing I picked up my bag, checking my art supplies were there and made my way out of my room, down the hall to the outside if the palace and out into the surrounding forest. The memories flood back to the first time I fell upon the old house of the moon.
I had been running for hours now, trying to put as much space between me and my old life as I could, but I was beginning to tire. I could feel my wounds reopening and I was haunted by my recent memories.
It was far away enough that I doubt they would recognise me.
Then I noticed some woods, perfect cover. I was determined to stay in the background, out of the way. I would not let my past affect my future. This is a new start, a new life.
As soon as neared the area I hid my markings and started walking. The feeling of cool grass run between my toes was amazing. I had spent my life watching through my window but never experiencing it for myself.
I ran my fingers along the leaves and across the bark of the trees as I wandered by. The cool breeze hung in the air. Reminding me that it was cold and I needed to get in shelter. But I didn't want to settle not just yet. Everything was so new to me and I could not get enough. But the night had other ideas. The cool breeze turned bitter and brought up goose bumps on my skin making me shiver.
I wrapped my arms around myself and started hurrying through the woods desperate now to find somewhere warm to sleep. By now I was struggling to hold on to my memories, to stop them from tearing away at my mind.
Then there in the distance, half hidden in the foliage was an old house. It looked as if it had been abandoned a long time ago and left forgotten in the woods.
I approached the building cautiously. Who knew what could be lurking in there. I reached the back door and peered into the glass. It was hard to see into, it just looked black. I could see my breath huffing against the glass, fogging up the window. I stepped back and tried the door handle, it was unlocked. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. It was around midnight now and the house was pitch black.
I couldn't keep still. I found some forgotten paints strewn on the floor. I opened the lid and dipped my hand in the paint. The cold paint felt relaxing in between my fingers. I touch my fingers against a bare wall at the end of the room, opposite the window. Then something clicked inside of me and that was it. I smeared my memories into the wall with the paint on my hands.
I drew all the memories that I was too scared to remember. I drew all of the feelings of anger and frustration that I could not remember. I drew that detested mark that was the cause for all of my misery and suffering as if I could pass the blame.
I can't remember finishing my expressive piece on the wall but I remember waking up the next day in the floor, covered in paint.
I make my way back to the little old house where everything started and set up my equipment. I had long ago covered the work made that day my hanging a sheet over the work. It wasn't much but I was the only person to enter into this abandoned building. Knowing that it was covered was all I needed.
I decided paint Sesshomaru. I painted the boy I used to know and the boy that he has grown up to be. There was a great contrast between the two images but I could tell that under all the layers he wore to hide himself he was still the little boy that I loved.
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Thanks. Till next time,
Katie
