Obliviate Me (Eloise, other hippies)
Nov 9, 2014 16:59:37 GMT -6
Post by Rebecca Miller on Nov 9, 2014 16:59:37 GMT -6
Principal Cook had pulled Rebecca aside and told her Makepeace wouldn't be returning to school. His brain tumor wasn't responding to potions or healing spells. Little did she know, Makepeace was already dead. In any case, there was a box under her desk that she hadn't had the courage to open until then. It was a box containing what little Makepeace left behind in his dormitory after being sent to the hospital.
She opened the cardboard box with shaking hands. Sketchbooks, undeveloped rolls of film, pencils, erasers, paint, brushes, along with a few other items that didn't especially stand out. She supposed they put his clothes in another box. The only thing she thought she might have wanted was one of his shirts. Oh, well. Maybe she could find a drawing of herself, or maybe even a self-portrait of Makepeace. Becca let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. If that's all that was in there, she could definitely get through it. Somehow, she thought he'd have more stuff, or at least more things that might choke her up.
Rebecca tucked her legs under her posterior and flipped through one of the sketchbooks, admiring his skill. Not really seeing anything she'd like to keep (there were so many girls, but none of them were her, as far as she could tell, and a few of boys, but not Makepeace), she swapped it for another book. Again, lots of girls, not her. Almost no boys. She got about halfway through it when she realized the pages weren't filled with girls, but one girl. Who was it? An ex-girlfriend? He'd never mentioned anyone. She squinted at the page, trying to make out the face. It was his early work, it would seem, and he wasn't quite as skilled back then as he'd grown to be.
Shrugging, she grabbed another sketchbook - a newer one, but not the newest. Quickly flipping through the pages with her thumb, it was almost like animation. The girl was eating, laughing, stretching, smiling, explaining something to a friend. And being extremely recognizable. Rebecca felt sick to her stomach.
She opened the cardboard box with shaking hands. Sketchbooks, undeveloped rolls of film, pencils, erasers, paint, brushes, along with a few other items that didn't especially stand out. She supposed they put his clothes in another box. The only thing she thought she might have wanted was one of his shirts. Oh, well. Maybe she could find a drawing of herself, or maybe even a self-portrait of Makepeace. Becca let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. If that's all that was in there, she could definitely get through it. Somehow, she thought he'd have more stuff, or at least more things that might choke her up.
Rebecca tucked her legs under her posterior and flipped through one of the sketchbooks, admiring his skill. Not really seeing anything she'd like to keep (there were so many girls, but none of them were her, as far as she could tell, and a few of boys, but not Makepeace), she swapped it for another book. Again, lots of girls, not her. Almost no boys. She got about halfway through it when she realized the pages weren't filled with girls, but one girl. Who was it? An ex-girlfriend? He'd never mentioned anyone. She squinted at the page, trying to make out the face. It was his early work, it would seem, and he wasn't quite as skilled back then as he'd grown to be.
Shrugging, she grabbed another sketchbook - a newer one, but not the newest. Quickly flipping through the pages with her thumb, it was almost like animation. The girl was eating, laughing, stretching, smiling, explaining something to a friend. And being extremely recognizable. Rebecca felt sick to her stomach.
