Blank Canvas

●Chapter 03●

It was a Sunday and frankly, I'm not quite fond of that day. It could get so boring because I have nothing to do other than goof around in my house like a stupid hobo.

I groaned, massaging my entire face and plonked down on my bed lazily. Weekends just make me lazy which might I add, I hate it. If it were in my hands, I would be working seven days a week just so that I wouldn't feel empty and jobless. But my mom wants me to relax on weekends and have fun but little does she know that painting and sketching are my fun things.

Pulling myself up, I walked towards my study desk against the left wall of my room with a dresser on the other side, opposite to my study desk. Amidst all the chaos in the middle was my bed. Cool, fresh air gushed inside my room from the open window right beside my dresser.

Taking a notebook and a pen that was placed neatly on my study desk, I tread back to my bed. I played with my pen while opening a blank page in my book. I've kept and maintained a diary wherein I put entries about a lot of stuff and some occurrences in my life. One of them would be how I'd spend my Sundays. 

I racked my brain to come up with some good ideas to fill up my mundane day. Biting my lip, I scribbled down my plans in the diary.

1. Cycle around the town with no particular destination in mind. 

2. Later go to Paradise, my favorite hangout place and finish my incomplete sketches.

I have always loved the cycling sport ever since I was a kid. People around my age might drive around in their posh cars but cycling is a good exercise. Even though I got my license when I was eighteen, I never really got the chance to drive a car. Also, I don't have much money to buy myself a car anyway. 

I have always been fascinated with Paradise because once when I was a kid, I'd lost my way around the town while cycling. Discovering this beautiful place was a sweet coincidence and I feel lucky to find its hidden address. I had named it 'Paradise' because that's what it is. A Paradise.

It might seem quirky that I had jotted down just two things that I would be doing the whole day but I think I've turned into a numbskull. Also to make plans is just a term. Planning is just for the sake of doing and everybody knows that it is anything but implemented. We just waste our time to come up with a good idea to satisfy our mind and soul. That's what I did.

I quickly grabbed my bag and put all my necessities in it which included my diary, painting materials, and a small canvas board.

Once I was done with everything, I headed downstairs, skipping two steps at a time. I could hear the television blaring in the living room and assumed my mom might be watching her favorite Spanish soap, forcing dad and Bert to watch along as well.

I was about to open the front door when I heard her call me out. "Aria."

I winced and sloppily made my way to the living room. "Yeah, mom?" I asked, clutching the straps of my bag.

"You... going somewhere?" She asked, looking at my backpack and scrunching her brows in confusion. The creases between her eyebrows have become more prominent due to her age but even today she looks beautiful just like she used to in her earlier days. Under her now aging skin, one could see the beauty once residing there.

"Yeah, just heading outside," I replied vaguely because truth be told, I didn't know what I was planning to do other than cycling and hanging around in Paradise either.

"Oh, okay," she muttered, nodding her head. Something was up, I could tell that.

"Where's dad and Bert?" I asked, noticing their absence.