This is a story about a painting on a wall

Once upon a time there was a painting hanging on the wall. She was watching across the room her owner breaking down. She’s been with her owner from quite some time now and she’s seen quite a lot of her break downs. One time her owner broke down because she was nervous before her exam, another time she broke down because she felt the pressure falling down on her, there were also sometimes when she cried by herself at night after being confronted by reality. But this time was different. Because this time she was trying not to cry. She was trying really hard not to cry. She was trying hard not to let her tears show. Her clenched fist, her slumped shoulders and her bloodied wrist covered with the spare hand, they were all there. Finally she got off from the bed and she knelt on the cold floor. But his time around she’s lost her ability to control her tears so they just kept flowing. With tears she was no longer able to stop, she lifted her head up and started at her reflection on the mirror. Through her tears she said “It’s okay, I’m okay, I can hang on” The painting was watching everything silently and pitying the fragile girl breaking down in front of her.

And then that same girl got up, but this time she had a different spark in her eyes. She slowly walked towards the painting. The painting looked down to see if there’s anything wrong with her because there’s no reason for her owner to walk towards the painting. As the painting checked herself out she could clearly see her heart in the centre of the canvas, a soft white glow around her heart filling a gradient blue background. But little did she know that she wouldn’t be able to do this anymore. 

The girl walked to her painting and  tiptoed as she lifted the painting up from the wall and put it on the floor. She took one long glance at her drawing. She remembered the time she drew it. She remembered how she felt when she completed that painting, she remembered how much she treasured her first canvas drawing. But then the girl remembered that this was no more. She slowly took the scissors from behind and stabbed right in the middle of the heart. The painting could do nothing but watch as her owner stuck a line of scissor stabs into her heart. She could also see very clearly that every time her owner stabbed in to the canvas her face crumpled up more and more until she could no longer hide her sobs. 

At that moment the painting could see how much pressure she was under, how much guilt she carried and how hard it was for her to keep holding on. The girl was suffering but she had no body to talk to. She’s tried to reach out for help but the world’s too busy in their own little bubbles, they can’t notice how much she’s changed and how much she’s struggled. 

The girl stabbed on to the canvas for the last time and she got up. She walked over to a closet and took out a needle and some white wool. She put her hand through her big hole she made on the canvas. The canvas was now nearing her end and she was heartbroken. But strangely enough, she felt at ease that she could at least help her owner take out her frustration on the canvas. As the painting passed her last breath, the girl started to sew the broken heart back together. She started to cross-stitch the broken heart. In between her tears she softly whispered “It’s okay, I’m okay, I will hang on” 

Author's Note

Ps: Please forgive my awful writing and can you tell me what you think of my story