Just simply a quiet place to draw. That’s all she was searching for. The grounds were far too cold to be out for a prolonged time. A gust of wind blew past. Clara grimaced, only to resume her casual scowl once it subsided.
Upon crossing the threshold into the library she was comforted by the warmth and subtle scent of old parchment and cheap perfume. This wasn’t a place Clara had spent excessive amounts of time in though it would suffice.
It wasn’t her life time career goal and hell, it wasn’t even a hobby. She would just do it. Mannequins, raggedy dolls that resembled Alice in Wonderland, hands from strange angles, in fact most things Clara drew were severely odd. A drawing hidden away in en envelope for safe keeping portrayed a cramped gathering of the living dead enjoying each others company at a tea party. These drawings stayed hidden once they were complete solely for Clara’s own comfort.
Her tattered bag was tossed onto an empty wooden table as she retrieved a stool for herself and got situated. From her bag she withdrew a large textbook titled Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures. Shortly after, a thick black sketch pad was opened at the binding to reveal a mess of charcoal blotches and in thick lettering, “FUCK YOU” had been smudged diagonally across the once innocent canvas. With a startled, breathy gasp she shut the book swiftly and sunk down into her chair and resumed chewing on her finger nails.
Propping the side of her head up by her elbow, she trailed down her arm and nibbled continuously at the other woolen sleeve of her turtle neck sweater. Spring recess was nearing and Clara’s anxiety was running high once again. It was her intention to stay but what would her father say? What would he do when she returned for the Summer? The drawing served as a reminder to the bruises she wore around her neck like jewelry and how she could never speak out against a single matter.
Clara quickly tucked a vibrant ginger curl behind her ear and began forcing the books deep into her bag. All she had hoped for was simply a quiet place to draw. Nothing was ever simple. Her memories took a hold of her by the throat and slowly suffocated her like an anaconda, unsatisfied until every last breath was taken from the girl.
