Thump. The book thudded to the floor as I dropped it down, honestly I didn't understand why I went through the bother of picking it up to read in the first place, I had practically memorized it. (Although it wasn't that hard because I only have about a dozen books.) Most people wouldn't find this lack of literature a problem but living in a tower with only a chameleon for company did mean using up any and every source of entertainment. Therefore having only a few books was most definitely a bother.
I had decided to try rereading the one with all the fairy tales but all it did was make me feel sorry for myself. Reading about all those people who got happy endings and could roam about outside did make my life seem pretty inadequate.
At the thought of the outdoors my eyes automatically drifted to the open window. Curiosity surged through me like the giant waves that were mentioned in the books mother had recently brought me. I smiled to myself when the whole section about the tides and waves automatically popped into my head.
Rolling off my bed I decided to find out where Pastel was and see if he had any ideas for today's activities in the tower.
Tiny and currently a dull brown the chameleon was sunbathing on the ledge of the window outside. Although it is a little sad to admit, Pascal is my only friend, and honestly I don't deserve him. He may be a reptile, but Pascal could leave whenever he wished, he could easily venture outside, and yet he never left the tower no matter what.
Opening just one eye Pascal simultaneously peeked up at me while shifting back into his usual grass green. Slowly he stretched arching his back almost like a cat, making me erupt into a fit of giggles.
Pascal had big warm brown eyes that were the only thing that didn't change about him; there were about a dozen pictures of Pascal all around the tower painted on the walls, the ceiling, or any open space I could find. In each one of them he was a different colour but his big orb like eyes were the same.
Smiling I reached down and petted him while scooping him up into my hands and plopping him down on my shoulder so he could see the room from my height.
Grinning I spun in a circle laughing at the way my hair fanned out around me like rays of the sun. I stopped spinning and suddenly regretted the spontaneous act of whirling; I was now tangled in my insane miles of hair.
Desperately trying to untangle myself I ran my fingers through my hair as fast as possible, annoyance settling into my stomach. I shifted my weight and suddenly I was tripping over my hair and sprawling to the floor. There was a high pitched squeal like chatter and I swatted Pascal away only to start laughing at the ridiculous situation.
Sitting up I finally managed to untangle myself from my locks. Looking up exasperated I glanced at the wooden panel on the wall, curiosity spiked through me. I was always looking around to see if I could find stairs to the top of the tower. When I was little I had always looked for the stairs that I knew had to be there because mother had to get up to the top somehow (this was back when my hair was too short to use as a replacement for a ladder).
Sitting up I slowly approached the panel. Taking a deep breath I snatched it away hoping to find a door of some sort, I let the breath out. Nothing. Just a bunch of blank wall, I started to turn away when a though occurred to me. I had been looking for years for a place to put a painting of the lights where mother couldn't find it; if I put it here I could hide it with the curtains that framed the fireplace below it. There was enough room and it was even the right shape.
I had restricted myself to only one a day five months ago when I had realized that there was almost no space left. It wasn't that the tower was small, it was huge with high rafters and luxurious wood work, some of which I had done myself. I had a lot of free time on my hands, I could work on my "gallery" as I liked to call it whenever I wanted, and it had developed quite a bit saying as I had been painting on the walls for almost 15 years.
It was good that I had found this extra space because it meant that it would last longer. Grabbing my paints I set to work on mixing. I would have to start with a simple indigo for the night sky and green for the grass and then paint more later when it had dried. Swirling my brush around I finished and finally got to the part I loved most, the brush to surface.
The painting slowly came to life. First I painted a couple of the trees visible from my window, and instead of having the walls of rock that surrounded our small valley I put rolling hills and a visible horizon, in this painting there would be no limits. Next I began to paint the lights. I painted small glowing orbs with a bright center, each floating light in different places up in the air filling the night sky. I ended the painting by illustrating me outside on the top of one of the trees watching the lights.
I smiled realizing that I had somehow managed to capture my one true wish in a painting. The painting was absolutely perfect, it represented everything thing that was me, from the need to be free to the long hair trailing down the artwork from the top of my head. I looked around the room taking in my work. There was a whole range of art in the tower. Portraits, flowers, plants, whatever I could think to draw.
I smiled to myself tracing my fingers over the small paintings I had done when I was 3. They were simplistic and yet they brought tears to my eyes. They were pictures of me and mother, and they were outside. I longed more than anything else in the world to escape my tower, it was home to my but it was almost a prison as well.
Mother restricted me from leaving, I believed that the outside world was too dangerous, full of people just waiting to use me, hurt me. I shivered, one of the things that scared me the most were the stories mother told my about the ruffians and thugs that crawled around the outside world hurting people. There were things out there like poison and quicksand and men.
Mother had talked extensively on the dangers of men. They were loathsome smelly creatures who preyed on young women luring them in. First they would act like they cared, they would take care of you, hold you, make you think about them, and then they would leave you broken and alone doubting everything.
When mother talked about the outside I doubted everything I could see through my window, maybe I was wrong, maybe I couldn't survive. Yet I felt as if it was she who was misinformed, the world was so beautiful with the grass and the trees and the songbirds that would flit by my window. Oh how I wanted to be free. I may keep busy all day, I had everything I needed and more... and yet all I wanted was to escape to the magical world outside my window.
Sighing I plopped down on the window seat resting my elbows on the sill gazing out to the outside world, I had memorized the small clearing outside the tower, the tall trees, the rolling hills of grass, the sparkling creek. I had drawn it all over my walls, my floor was a splash of greens made to look like the real thing, in truth I couldn't really tell how similar they were, there was no way I could.
Jumping up I decided to try again on the reading, maybe I could read the one on biology again. Learn about grass, suddenly there was a tap on my shoulder I spun around t see Pascal looking at me expectantly with his large brown eyes. I smiled and stroked his little back wondering what he wanted.
Pascal started furtively looking out the window jumping up and down; I wondered if mother was home. Looking out I looked to see what he was staring at, but there was nothing there, frowning I turned back to my friend, now he was pointing with his tail out the window smiling as big as he could. The curious smile slipped from my face, Pascal wanted to go outside. "Oh Pascal," I whispered, "you know I can't." Pascal frowned and pointed again out the window. Again, I sat down to lean my elbows on the window gazing out into the unknown world. "I wish I could," I whispered, "gods knows that's all I want. I would kill just to see what's past those walls." Pascal looked up at me with his eyebrows raised and squeaked; I knew what he was trying to say. "I can't just ask her Pascal, you know how she is always going on and on about the evils of the world. It doesn't matter how old I am or that it's the only thing I want or that..." I drifted off, maybe it would be ok to just ask, it was my birthday tomorrow... that could be my gift.
Slowly a plan took root in my mind, I would clean the whole house top to bottom as clean as possible, scrub the floors' maybe refresh some of the peeling paintings. I could make mother's favorite dinner and a nice dessert on the nice plates we had. I glanced down at my dress, it was shabby and straight up disgustingly dirty, I would have to change that too. Flitting quickly around I set my plan in motion.