This lovely little creation came to me during Calculus. We were supposed to be reviewing for the AP exam (but who does for that class?) and one of my friends fell asleep. I saw her and POOF! this was born. She helped me with the whole description of the dream/painting because I am not a...drawing type of artist. I deal with words...Anyway, here it is!
Many thanks to my beta, prehistoric-girl, who found the little mistakes I couldn't.
Her head lies gently atop her folded arms, draped over the desk like a discarded blanket waiting to be used. The chilled air of the room causes shivers to ripple through her otherwise still form. A jacket is draped over her, causing her to sharply sit up from her vulnerable state. After a few moments she lies her head down once more, trying her best to empty her mind and allow sleep to overtake her.
Sleep begins to consume her as her breathing slows and her body slowly relaxes. It is refreshing to her; the blankness of her mind blocks out the voices speaking in the conscious world. For the moment, everything is perfect. The jacket wraps around her like a cocoon, separating her ever-active mind from the things that trouble her.
As the minutes pass, her friends try their best to keep her in the dream world, quieting the voices that begin to rise in volume. The past few months have been hard for everyone, but her circumstances seem to surpass anything her friends can imagine. Wearing a mask for so long has worn the girl down, leaving behind a battered body that needs to be cared for.
The girl's mind and soul are currently soaring through the air, absentmindedly gazing down at a blank canvas. She smiles as she imagines the possibilities of what she can create. This is where she belongs: not in the world filled with an endless supply of people racing around for things they do not necessarily need, but in a world where creativity and freedom are the only two things to exist.
Noises begin to drift into her world, signaling to her that the perfection is merely a dream. Whether she knows it or not, she suppresses the noises and allows herself to fall back to her reality.
The first thing she realizes is that the ground beneath her feet is not actually ground, but just a vast sheet of white. Tilting her head and drawing her hand up gently, a bucket of paint suddenly appears beside her, accompanied by a delicate brush in her hands. She dips the brush into the paint and gently strokes a line in the middle of the air, watching in fascination as a dark midnight blue seemingly appears out of nowhere. Several more strokes bring her to realize that a delicate nighttime sky is beginning to appear. Inspired, she dips her paintbrush into the bucket once more and paints several more lines, watching again as a gentle meadow appears before her, followed by floating mountains and looming rocks that seem to complete the perfection around her.
Becoming consumed with a desperate need to create, she furiously paints a river, ignoring the calming sounds as it moves over the rocks slowly. Almost instantaneously, a bright moon appears behind the mountains. In a fit of pure passion she splatters the paint in every which direction, not caring where it lands or what it creates. Several moments pass before she can manage to calm down, and it is only when she stands still that she sees what she has created.
She stands on a rock overlooking the river that seems to crawl over small rocks, creating a light trickling sound that only be heard when she closes her eyes. Delicate fluffy clouds surround the floating mountains and rocks. Several small stars twinkle in the sky, creating a surreal feeling as the moon illuminates the world beneath it.
She closes her eyes and breathes in the fresh air, only to hear a faint ringing sound. She opens her eyes and watches as her world vanishes, only to be replaced with blurred objects and the sounds of shouting people.
She blinks and slowly comes to the conclusion that everything was just a dream. Her friends are all standing, but they linger as they wait for her to realize where she is. Closing her eyes briefly, she sits up and gathers the forgotten papers scattered on her desk. The jacket slips off her shoulders slowly, taking with it any last remaining images of her world. Smiling softly to her friends she stands up and walks out the door, feeling slightly disappointed that she cannot stay in her paradise.
Once again, I give the credit for the last half to my friend. And thanks for being my muse for the moment!
There's a picture of the "dream" at the bottom of my profile, so check it out if you couldn't quite picture it. Well, check it out anyway. It's a beautiful picture. Drop a line!