A Show of Heart

I wasn't exactly a fan of having to endlessly go to school everyday. Each day for the past three years I've been getting up, going to school, sitting through class; before going home, and sleeping. Rinse, repeat eternally. It seemed that all of my valuable years; in which I had to sit in a boring, plain classroom in an almost agonizingly painful silence. Life sure knew how to throw one heck of a curveball. Without fail, it would bore me to the point of insanity through those times; although, there was a certain girl around that has caught my eye.

All she ever seemed to do was draw colorful, happy pictures that contrasted; ironically to the situation that I, myself, felt the opposite. She was a loner, like myself, but for a completely different reason. One of her friends would pick on her for a number of reasons. For some reason, it bothered me, but I never said anything. All I could do was watch the events fold out, since everyone sees me as the bad guy.

She was the one beacon of light that managed to pierce the darkness, that was the utter boredom I felt, and that was improbable, being able to actually watch her. I knew it seemed condescending, but how could I complain about having to stare at someone who could easily surpass the majestic beauty of an angel?

I knew she wasn't one of course; I mean it wasn't like she would talk to me or anything, so I just settled for the fact that I could only watch her in the distance. If only she would talk to me, then things would be interesting... or so I thought.

The thought made a grin creep its way onto my usually placid face, which I proceeded to wipe off immediately as I heard the doorknob rattle from the efforts of someone attempting to get in. I sat up expectantly considering, happily, the thought of possibly being dismissed from watching the classroom. Upon viewing the individual, I sank back heavily with a disappointed groan.

It was only the teacher, clumsily making his way into the room, and almost tripping over a small chair. "Oh it's just you... I don't suppose you're here to tell me I'm free to go?" I asked as my hope was roughly thwarted by my disappointment.

The teacher gave me an apologetic look, which only increased the weight of the let down. "Unfortunately not, I was just dropping something off. Coco asked me earlier if I could get her something, and I didn't see any reason to say no," he proclaimed proudly with a stupid grin.

I watched curiously as the teacher brought a box of crayons out from somewhere in his box. I could feel my eyes widen in amazement as I saw Coco walk over to him, gently taking the gift, and even offering an appreciative smile accompanied by a soft, "thank you."

I was sure that if I hadn't had better control of my jaw, it would have hit the floor. That was most definitely the record breaker of interactions I had ever seen her exchange with anyone. Why didn't she talk with me that way, smile at me the way she did to him? Was there something wrong with me? Then again, I probably scare the daylights out of her; I'm not exactly the most friendly guy in school after all. I was also aware that my personality definitely didn't give off the impression of a calm demeanor.

With a light shake of my head I sent the thoughts away; just in time to catch the teacher giving me an odd look, before noiselessly leaving the confines of the room. I shrugged off the look shifting my gaze to the small girl, who was once again focused on the picture she had momentarily neglected.

I felt a flicker of irritation spark in the depths of emptiness that inhabited my chest. I didn't like to be ignored; especially if everyone besides me was being treated to even a little of her attention, while I was being left out. I'm fed up with this stupid silent treatment I've been given. I haven't done anything… have I?

In any case, I'm going to break the ice and say something. I looked around the room for some inspiration, feeling my small flame of anger die down when I noticed how wrong I was. I had said her pictures were happy; a lot of them were actually pretty sad, colorful, but sad.

"Why are they all so sad?" I asked in a quiet voice. I almost didn't recognize as being my own.

I sat in an expectant silence beginning to consider that I hadn't voiced the question at all. But then I heard the legs of her chair scrape against the floor as she got up from her table, picture in hand. My gaze followed her petite figure as she stopped in front of one of the walls– adding her newest picture to the growing collection plastered across to the wall.

I was about to repeat the question, still unsure if she had heard, or if I had even asked. But stopped when I heard her gentle voice reverberate the walls, as it pierced the deafening silence. "Maybe because it's the only thing I feel that I can draw. I don't know what it's like to be truly happy… I don't really know what it's like to be sad, but maybe being sad and hollow are alike.”

“I only see emptiness when I look at my pictures. Colors and shapes with no meaning behind them," she explained with a sadness far more than evident in her voice. "You know, I heard that drawings hold a piece of the artist. Something special that eventually forms an invisible connection that grows with the people around them," she looked up at me.

I could see tears brimming on the edge of her lash line, threatening to spill over, "my pictures always turn out so… empty, because I don't have a piece of myself to share. I'm just empty, and meaningless like my drawings." I could only watch with shame as her tears escaped the corner of her eyes slowly etching glistening trails down her cheeks ending at her jaw line.

Way to go, idiot! You try to start a conversation, and you end up making her feel worse. Oh, and not to mention, cry!

I felt the burning sensation of guilt grow steadily in my stomach as I watched her turn away from me in an attempt to hide her tears, and compose herself. I stood up from the couch, where I had been sitting the whole time, scratching my head nervously.

"Aw geez, why do I always screw everything up," I muttered under my breath.

I edged my way slowly towards her, slightly shaking form, before stopping to delve into my mind for a solution to one of the many problems I always seem to create. There had to be something I could do that would make her feel better. I'd never openly admit it, but it really tugged at my heartstrings; I wished I would have, whenever I see her hurting in any way.

I could almost see the light of the imaginary light bulb that illuminated over my head. I hesitantly headed towards one of the walls, decorated by layers upon layers of drawings. I studied the wall for a moment, before gently taking down a picture: a shadow filled sky with only a simple, radiant beam of soft white light piercing the oppressive darkness, which threatened to smother the horizon.

I stood behind her. Hoping that what I was about to say would make her stop crying, as well as relieve me of the waves of guilt, angrily lurching inside me. Well, here goes nothing, "Coco?"

I could hear a small sniffle, and saw her arm raise as she wiped away the tears, I knew stained her cheeks. She turned around to face me blinking a few times, before looking up at me. I couldn't help but feel disoriented as her beautiful light cyan eyes, rimmed by long tear speckled eyelashes, rested timidly on me.

Pull it together man! She's just a girl, and as an added bonus, she probably hates your guts. You're just a bully, and everyone hates you… you should be used to speaking your mind by now, not to mention: you made her cry not very long ago.

I blinked a few times, clearing my throat, in an attempt to regain control of my runaway thoughts. I ran my hand through my hair, before starting my mending process with uncertainty.

"Look, I'm sorry that I made you upset… but, believe it or not, it really wasn't my intention. Since I'm being honest right now, I just want to say that I think you're wrong," I started slowly.

I saw a wave of confusion wash over her face, and her eyes lost most of their moistness as she seemed to be focusing her mind on what I had said instead of on crying.

"About your pictures… I don't really think that you need a give a piece of yourself to someone just for the sake of it. If it makes you feel hollow, try and focus on what makes you feel whole. I know you don't like me very much… ah, heck, I even made you cry… but I hope you would let me keep… err… this one, as an example of your… eh… 'fullest,' I guess."

I looked at the picture I had chosen for a second before continuing.

"I know we have different roles, you and I… but you shouldn't let that stop you. You know, it shouldn't matter. You feel that if you did your very best, putting your very soul into each drawing, it's good enough. If you draw as if you have to impress someone…” I paused briefly.

“How could it really be different?" I asked with seriousness biting my lip in concentration, "I'm not sure what else I can say… I’m not exactly sure what your friend told you; perhaps something about you not amounting to anything, just because she didn't like it. She couldn't have been more wrong. I mean you shared this picture with me, and it already feels like a piece of you– close to me that I can always keep…” I trailed off tentatively.

I looked up, previously staring at my beat up shoes. A warm feeling washing through me when I saw that she no longer had any remains of tears in her eyes, and a bashful smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

Wow, I really can have a way with words… when it comes to this, I guess. I snuck a quick glance at the small clock above the door, before returning my gaze to her.

"Well, my punishment is just about finished… so, I guess I'll be taking my picture, and I don't ever want to see you crying because of some stupid thing that comes out of my or anyone else's mouth. I'd honestly rather have you call me out than cry about me… got it?” I asked with genuine honesty.

She nodded in agreement with a small smile. I turned to leave, but her gentle voice called out, "wait!”

I stopped, turning around eyeing her curiously. I looked down in amazement as I felt her delicate hand intertwine with mine. She gave me a rare smile gently squeezing my hand. “Thank you… f-for what you said. It… It really meant a lot to me."

I smiled, and turned around getting ready to leave when she stopped me.

"A-and you were wrong, you know."

My face crinkled in confusion by what she explained, but it melted away to a look I couldn't describe; as she took me by surprise, leaning up, and giving me a small kiss on the cheek. I felt the spot, where her lips had tenderly touched my skin, growing warmer than the heat, which constantly ran through my blood. It was a different warmth, one I wished would last forever. I was still a bit confused by what she had said… but then her sweet voice dissipated that confusion.

"You said that I didn't like you very much…” I watched as she shyly looked at her shoes, before looking up, and finishing her sentence, "you were wrong. You seem like a caring person despite what others say about you. You took the time to talk to me, and cheer me up. That makes you a good person.”

I could feel my cheeks redden, it was a new and strange feeling, but it was a nice feeling. I gave her small hand a soft squeeze in return– shifting out of my, rare, sensitive side.

"Yeah. Well, even someone as mean as myself has some momentary lapses in judgment," I proclaimed with a smirk. I was treated to a rosy blush adopting across her cheeks. I gently, and reluctantly, released my hand from hers, before turning to the door.

"I'll see you tomorrow Coco," I said with a quick wink. "You know… if you surprise me with a special picture, I might surprise you with something in return… what do you say?" I asked hopefully.

She gave me a coy look before replying, "I guess we'll see tomorrow… if I have a picture, you owe me a surprise."

"Fair enough," I agreed.

On that note, I exited the luminous plain, but colorful, room with a grin dancing impishly on my face. I couldn't wait for tomorrow, because somehow, I already knew what she would say… I knew there would be a picture waiting for me, and I knew she would get the surprise I had promised.