Short Stories Romance

Neona Orline

The morning sun glimpsed the window of the room I had opened. It felt warm, plus the little bird's great-grandson perched on a branch of a flamboyant tree with red flowers almost covering the entire tree.

I grabbed pencils, canvas, brushes, pallets and watercolors next to the white window. My hands began to friskyly dance on the canvas, paint the beauty that is in the brain then pour out on the canvas. Yes, I really like to paint from the age of adolescence.

My imagination grew wild as my hands began to scratch pencils onto the canvas. I began to paint a pair of beautiful eyes, a pair of eyebrows that were like thousands of ants lined up and a pointed nose.

"El, Papa wait for you downstairs." Jeon Alardo - My brother and sister called.

I saw him walking closer and now he's standing next to me.

"Lu hasn't been caught in Papa's temper, El?" Alardo narrowed the distance. Now, his position was right in front of me, only hindered by the white canvas paper. He saw my hand still holding a pencil, even a small brush that I had tucked in my ear, very clearly my activity was painting.

"What's wrong with painting, Al? I love it, by painting my imagination free."

"But Papa forbid you to paint! He wants us to continue the business in his company that has been pioneered since before."

"Gue can't. Don't try to force me to find happiness. We may be twins, our faces are the same but not everything should be the same, right?"

"Jeon Elenio!" There was a man of stout stature and a face full of charisma standing firm. Who else if not Jeon Dylan - our Father.

I looked into his eyes just as sharply, with Papa gallantly walking towards us.

"You haven't been able to leave this useless hobby behind, huh? Look brother! He obeyed what Papa told him. Your time's up for a doodle on canvas, no use!" Papa took the paper.

"Ja-" I screeched while trying to reach for the canvas, but my screeching stopped as the tearing of paper rang out, even right in front of me. It hurt and I could only bow down lethargic. There's no way I'm fighting, is there?

Just the tightness I think when Papa robs the canvas that I think is part of happiness. My freedom of expression seemed to be broken by him. He locked the whole picture. What is wrong with being a painter?

Me and Alardo were twins, but to continue the company as Papa wanted was not for me. My blood flows art, probably from Mama who is also a painter.

"If you don't want to hear Papa's words, you better get out of the house" said Papa who made me look up and look at his face.

Seriously? Papa kicked me out right now?

"Pa-" Alardo seemed to be trying to prevent, but papa's hand held him back to get closer to me.

"Let Elenio leave this house. He may return after realizing his mistake and abandoning his painting habit," Papa replied in a heavy voice. Papa turned his body, came out of the room leaving me alone with Alardo in the room.

"El, you're okay, right?"

I nodded then got up from the chair and walked towards the wooden cabinet that stood firmly in the corner of the room.

"El, don't go. Papa's just being emotional, maybe because there's a problem in his office." Alardo tried to calm me down.

"Sir, Al. I can't keep quiet. I kept quiet all this time because of my mom. Now that Mama is gone, she feels depressed because her love for painting is forbidden by Papa. Does this have to happen to me until I finally have to catch up with Mama because of depression?"

Alardo. Perhaps he recalled the incident five years ago in which a depressed Mama who ended up dying by suicide jumped from the third floor of the house.

"Gue believes and believes that you will be successful with your painting, El. Stay upbeat, huh? Fulfill your dreams and prove to Papa that your work is valuable!"

***

The events of three years ago are still ringing in the head where I want to prove to Papa that painting is not a waste. Everyone is free to pursue their dreams. Including me!

In a large room painted white, there are many paintings with various themes. Life, inanimate and even abstract objects have been presented adorning the white walls and some are deliberately exhibited on the table.

Many people came to see the painting. Yes, this is my painting gallery. Mama's last dream before she breathed her last in my lap. Mama who used to be depressed and chose to end her life by jumping from the 3rd floor of the house that should be a palace even like a prison for her.

Mama often paints secretly from Papa and I was spoiled by the beautiful paintings made by her fingers.

"Congratulations to his work, sir."

"Amazing out! I'm fascinated by your paintings, Sir."

"I've only seen paintings this lifetime. Surely you paint really using the heart, so your painting is really alive."

Praise from the visitors was expressed on the first day of the painting exhibition. The atmosphere is quite calm with great people painting lovers gathered here.

Really, this is really far from my imagination. In the past, this dream only wanted to find freedom of imagination, pouring ideas and freedom to paint fingers on canvas and now all is done. Praise God. He always kept me up until this moment.

I now sit with a blank canvas ready in front. I closed my eyes for a moment and imagined my face. The most beautiful face that gave birth to me 22 years ago.

"If you grow up, you want Elenio to be a painter. Can open a painting gallery and there will certainly be many beautiful works." My mother's words were always in my memory.

This pair of eyes opened and hands began to dance agilely on the canvas. I started scratching pencils again sketching my beautiful face and then perfected it with a brush dipped in paint of various colors.

'Neona Orlin, December 05, 1977.'

Mama's name and date of birth have been scratched on the canvas. This is the first time I've painted my beautiful face. Breathing was relieved when all was over and became a beautiful work. The work that I will make in this gallery.

Ma, your dream has been fulfilled. Mama could see me from up there. May you be happy in nature because I know, Mama there is proud to see my works in this gallery.

"Congratulations, Taun Jeon Elenio. You're great!" The voice I was so familiar with was accompanied by a soft pat on the shoulder.

I looked, "Papa?"

The charismatic man's lips smiled and for the first time, he hugged me tightly and was full of pride.

"Congratulations, El! You managed to become a great person by the works. I am proud of you and this is a lesson for me, so as not to impose the wishes of others. Even though he's his own son." Al hugged me after Papa let go of his embrace.

"And this is the greatest lesson for Papa. Thank you for opening your eyes so as not to bind the freedom of people to imagine. Although it's all too late. Mama had left first because Papa's mistake was restraining her."

I don't know why Papa hates painting. To this day, it remains a mystery. The three of us hugged tightly and I'm sure, a beautiful curve rang from Mama's lips from up there.