The Black Canvas

Red

"I'm sorry I quit contacting you, mom." Marisole said quietly as she watched the sun rise over the mountains. They sat on the upstairs balcony drinking coffee. "Things came up and I just got off track...I know there's no excuse."

"Mary," Her mom gently replied, making her tear up from the nickname, "You know I don't care about that. You can ignore me for years and I would still love you nonetheless."

"I love you too." Marisole choked back the tears and smiled at her mom, enjoying being in her presence again. "Where did Jesse go?" She asked as she cleared her throat. Jesse was her mom's boyfriend.

"Just a quick run to the store. We were out of milk." Her mom smiled and grabbed Marisole's hand. "Hey, I want to show you what I did with your old room."

Marisole's face fell as her mom stood up. Her old bedroom. It would bring back bad memories, Marisole knew it. She spent so many years boxing it away, but now that box was going to be opened.

"Come on." Her mom pushed, waiting patiently for her daughter. Marisole reluctantly followed her through the familiar halls of the house. She looked at a specific wall in the corner of the room. Huh, the blood stains finally came out.

She honestly didn't know why her mom chose to stay at this house that held so much demons. This was the place where her stepdad would viciously beat the guts out of the both of them, Marisole only being 8 years old at the time. The worst was when he would go on a drunken rampage. Marisole vaguely remembers hiding in a small cupboard with her mom and being told not to breathe.

Marisole took the time to look at her mom. She was happy, smiling, and her face was clear. Marisole could still see the scars along her jaw and hairline, but they continue to fade. Her mom is content with her new boyfriend and has a positive perspective on life. The thought made Marisole feel good.

They reached the old bedroom and Marisole was confused at first. Everything was rearranged and nothing looked like it did when Marisole occupied it. She let out a breath of relief. If it was completely identical to what it used to look like, Marisole would have had a panic attack.

It was a small white room with two miniature windows on the two far walls. A made up bed was in the corner with a wooden night stand next to it. A lamp was on the night stand and the lampshade had tiny little cherebs on it. There was a closet on the wall to the left of the women standing in the doorway. It was completely empty, waiting for somebody to put something in it. There was light brown carpet beneath their feet and a wooden dresser stood against the wall to the right of Marisole and her mom.

"I had it cleaned up for you. I figured you wanted this room while you were here visiting."

Marisole smiled at her mom and nodded. "Yeah, it's beautiful mom. You really fixed it up." She stepped into the room and examined it more.

Her mom let out a content sigh. "Well, your stuff is in the living room if you want to move it in here. I'm gonna go make some breakfast for us. Jesse should be home soon."

"Okay, mom, thanks." Marisole called as her mom walked away.

"Welcome, hun."

Marisole walked over and looked under the bed. There were still scratch marks on the wall as she predicted. At 9 years old, she tried to escape through the walls. She would make her nails bleed but she was desperate to get out, so she didn't care. Marisole shuddered at the memory and sat up, rubbing her head. Was this a good idea? Coming back 'home'? Things were okay now but these dark entities that haunt me will not leave.

Marisole shook off the feeling and walked to the closet. This used to be a great hiding place. She looked up at the ceiling and saw what remained of a secret entrance. You can still see the square opening but it was patched up now. It led to the attic and Marisole would just climb up and lock the door and stay in there for hours. Her mom would sometimes join her. She would bring snacks and drinks and just wait out her stepdad's rampage. Tears threatened to burn at the rims of her eyes, and she began to feel anger. How they put up with such hell for so long baffled her.

And then, she spotted a small red box in the corner of the closet, and that box was such a simple little box. It was the only thing in the room that didn't bring back nightmarish memories. She opened it carefully and looked in. There were stacks of paper crammed inside of it, as if somebody was in a hurry to box it away. The papers had drawings on them that Marisole couldn't quite see well. She curiously took out the first drawing. It was a family. There was a little girl with a mom and a dad. They were smiling as they stood in front of a house. Marisole chuckled. It must be one of the first drawings she made, she could tell by the sloppy architecture.

She got out the second drawing and it was a happy dog with it's tongue sticking out. She laughed. She remembered she had always wanted a dog.

Marisole looked in horror as she viewed the next drawing. It was a little girl screaming and crying in a corner while a scary looking monster shouted over her. It had a beer bottle in its hand. She sighed and put it down, feeling sick already.

The next drawing was upside down, so Marisole couldn't see what it was right away. Oh boy, wonder what this one is. I bet you it's me with my stomach slashed and guts hanging out. I had such a messed up childhood, I wouldn't be surprised.

But it wasn't any of that. Marisole stared quietly at a beautiful looking boy staring back at her. This must have been drawn when she was older, maybe 13 or 15. She smiled at him, feeling a rush of warmth and safety just from looking into his brown eyes. It was a nice break from looking at terror.

This boy's hair was black and soft, like you could touch it and it would feel like a cloud. His features were gorgeously constructed, like the statue of David at the museum. His skin was a light tan and his teeth were a shiny white. She wondered how her young teenage self could make something this extraordinary.

Her eyes traveled down the paper and got to the bottom where it had some writing. Marisole had to squint to see it. When the words became clear to her, her stomach dropped and her smile faltered.

'My best friend in the whole world, the one that makes me smile in the dark times. He lifts my spirits and kisses my pain away.

My one and only,

Ellis.'

Marisole sat in frozen shock. Suddenly things began to click together. She looked at the picture again. Same features, same hair, same smile, same watch on the left hand, same clothes, same everything. He is just like the man Marisole met and left back in Maine.

Panicked, she dug through the papers and looked at each drawing. All of them were of Ellis, Ellis running, Ellis laying down on the grass, Ellis singing, Ellis smiling. Marisole was even in some of them. There was a drawing where they were on a boat together. The boat was cyan colored with a black sail...and a tiny white dove painted on it.

She dropped the papers and scooted away. A dizzy feeling came over her as she weakly stood up, having the bed support her. The room spinned around her, tears blurred her vision, and negative emotions swarmed in her head. She tried calling out to her mom but her throat was dry, no sound came out. She feel to the ground and felt blood run out of her nose. She raised an arm up to wipe it, but ended up smearing it all over her arm.

What is happening? None of this makes sense!

After a couple of seconds, she finally fell unconscious.