haley mathiot's Page

Chapter 1--Cobalt
The sky was a dusty purple, with splashes of pink thrown through. Trees were silhouetted black against the sky, and I could still see some blue and green at the edge of the horizon. It made my energy flow through my veins, it made my mind race. I saw, in my mind’s eye, the process of taking my choice canvas (20X24) and using soft vine charcoal to draw out the scene, painting one layer of the acrylic paint one over the other. I couldn't do it with my hands at the moment, as I was in a taxi. (No paint allowed.) But at least I could pretend I was painting.
I started with the browns. I selected a wide wash brush and began laying down the colors. The browns went on quickly: Burnt Siena, Raw Umber, and Sedona brown. Then I reached for the blue.
Instantly I felt my chest tighten, my eyes stinging. I tried to ignore it as I rinsed my brush out and spread a streak of Ultramarine blue over the canvas. Deep and dark at the bottom, lightening on the top slowly...
Giving up, I opened my eyes and let the tears fall. Only a few came, and that was good. I had a lot to do today and I needed a clean face. But I could shed a few tears for him. I’d miss him, a lot. More than the others, I thought guiltily. I couldn't see how that was fair. I’d lived with the others for so long, they were my family. But then he came and turned my world upside down, and then shook it, extracting me and letting me fall. And I fell—hard. But, luckily for me, he caught me.
Ultramarine blue isn't really the color, you know. I thought to myself. It’s too dark for his eyes. He was more of a cobalt blue, with a little bit of water in it. The water to make it look glossy like the deep ocean, hot like fire. How can two opposites exist in one person? I don't know. I can't understand much of anything these days. Especially encoded and unbreakable messages in another language.
I could feel the pieces of paper in my bag, pressing against my leg. I didn't feel comfortable opening them here, because I’d probably get so wrapped up in breaking the codes that I’d start talking out loud to myself, and the taxI driver would either listen and find out about impending doom on the country, or think I was insane. So I put it off until I got to a safe house. The only problem was, the house I was going to wasn't safe. It wasn't safe at all.