Resurgence

she didnt know what exactly she was sketching but her hands were making a rough outline of a squarish mandible.a prominent edged cheek,that would definitely be a man.slowly filling in the facial details, she scrutinized over every inch.demanding perfection in every single stroke.it was not some kinda art project or anything,but something inside her tells her that she needed to make the best possible.

she never felt the urge and push like this before but her adrenaline was flowing and she had to continue.she became more determinant and forced her pencil harder against the paper, almost like theres no tomorrow.the force in her fingers were too strong causing grooves on the paper,from pressing the lead to hard.finally was the eyes.she always drew eyes first in any portrait,cuz frm her perspective the eyes are the window to ones' soul.and everytime she sketches,the eyes would have to come first for her to 'feel' and complete her subject.but this time round,the eyes came last.

it was like,some sort of escapism.or maybe like,saving the best part for last.

as she began sketching the outline, a pair of drowzy-like eyes appeared.they were lazy and half open.and somewhat familiar.like..a pair that she had once crossed eyes with.a pair of eyes that she has seen through,right into the soul.

she rubbed of the rough lines and neatened the outline of her subject.her pencil dropped to the table almost instantly as she slowly recognized the portrait she was so keened and drawing.shiver and chills down her spine but she clenched her fist right on the table.as if to counter all the hatred and pain that suddenly resurfaced within her.she was shaking,real hard.

the portrait lied dead on the table.she dare not touch it as the resemblance was impeccable.she was slightly quivering,angry a bit of why it was that person that she happened to draw. the person who once brought her happiness. who once showed her how to love. and also the person who made her suffer in pain and hatred. that person, who because of him she found hard to trust not only herself,but everyone around her too. that person,who she chose to cut out from her memory,but somehow failed. she felt like screaming out and tearing the paper to pieces but realising it would be useless,she slowly unclenched her fist.

the shutters suddenly opened wide due to the strong winds,and to her avail, the sketch flew away with the wind,before she could even have a chance to grasp the paper in her hands. and so with that,gone was all the memories,all the flashbacks of the past, all the emotions that almost began to drown her deep.all flew away with the wind,hustling through the rain.bittersweet it was.seeing the paper fly far away fading in vicinity, she muttered under her breath; 'i hope you're doing fine out there without me.cause i,am doing so good without you'