Painted
Family
There
was a painted portrait of a family
hanging in an empty hallway,
in a rotting house.
It hanged on flowery wallpaper
that was peeling and had lost it’s colour.
The mother stood on the right,
half hidden in the shadows
that the burgundy red drapes had cast.
A
tight sea green dress that hugged her unperfected body
– that was what she thought when looking
in the mirror,
a skeleton of her mother –
a diamond necklace covered
her scrawny neck that was paired with a charm bracelet
that hanged on her wrist.
Black
jeweled earrings
were clipped on her ears.
Her
blond hair was pulled back into a perfect tight bun.
On
the left was the father
standing straight and tall.
The light from the window casted shadows
onto his stern face that always had eyes
that were like gray rocks.
His black suit was wrinkled free.
His black shoes were polished
until they sparked in the sun.
Their
seven year old son
was in the middle,
like he was the bridge the gap
between the two,
as if he was the reason
why the two were together at all.
The
son, had a black suit on
just like the father,
but the bow that the mother tied
was coming undone.
The gel that they put
in his dirty blond hair didn’t help
to tame the wild hair
that was going in every direction.
He wore a bright smile,
missing teeth and all.
“Stand
up straight.”
“
Don’t show any emotions,
they are a gate way into your thoughts.”
“If
people can read your thoughts
then you no longer have
the upper hand in the situation.”
That
was what the father always said.
Smiling was a rare occasion in the family.
The
portrait made the them look
like any family
trying to rise a seven year old son.
The picture did showed
that their own personalities
did shine through and
sometimes the personalities did clashed together,
but the family was still intact.
But
was that really the case?
Posts
0 comments