Colorful Tears

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1. prologue

Amanda's POV:

Drawing is my way of escaping the world. It's the only thing I have complete control of in my life. When I draw, it's like I escape this world and go into a world of my own. Where people look like cartoons and houses look like blocks. The drawing is my own. I can add a few clouds or maybe flowers. The best thing is, if I make a mistake... All I have to go is erase it. Which is something you can't do in the real world. When I draw it feels like I'm finally... Free. Like I can do whatever I want. That's what I love about it.

The day I started Woodstone Arts Academy, I was ecstatic. Besides the fact that it was a boarding school. I told myself that I would make lots of friends and have the best time of my life. I kept telling myself that on the car ride to Woodstone Arts Academy (WSAA). When I got there, I realized that I was wrong. Everyone there was dressed in boring clothes like Jeans and a tank top. I thought WSAA would be filled with other kids expressing how they feel in their clothing, like all the other kids did at my old school. But oh was I wrong!

On the second day I made my first friend. Of course it was my English teacher. He said that I had real potential in becoming a writer. I never thought of taking up a career on writing. I had always had my heart set on art. After English came Art. The place where I could escape. Our art teacher, Mrs. Price had us draw a picture of a toddler in a bubble bath. I was quite happy with the way mine came out. And apparently so were the other kids in the class.

"Oh my god. That's amazing. It looks so... So real." The boy who sat next to me beamed.

I smiled, admiring my work. I looked over at his, which looked to be a bath, bubbles, and a stick figure baby in the bath.

He smiled once he saw me examining his picture, "yeah I got into this school because of music... Not art."

I laughed a little and continued making minor adjustments to my drawing. When the class ended, I turned in my drawing to Mrs. Price to be graded. On the way out the door, the boy who sat beside me grabbed my shoulder.

"I'm Calum by the way." He smiled.

I kept walking and he followed. After a little while I said, "I'm Amanda."


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