A fictional story written by students
December 4, 2016
Credit: Pixabay
Written by Ice Sola
How quaint, the atmosphere felt different than the one I had experienced the day before. Nothing unusual, just… distinct with all the people who went to the museum. How I just wanted to sigh all my words out, but that would get me nowhere at all, right?
“State your name!” the detective said, “And tell me why on earth would you stare at a painting for six hours?! Answer me! You were the last person to be seen on camera, so you better tell me or I’ll lose it!” A mouthful of words came off of the detective’s tongue. Quite annoyed if I could say so myself, but I gave my reasons; I didn’t want to get arrested anyways.
“My name is Tetsuyo Kinamora, a recent psychologist from Nagoya, Japan…” I started to say.
Currently, I’m on a project in how the mixing of chromatic schemes can have an affect on moods. What a better way to find out than going to a bright and popular American art museum? The art was lovely of course: the amazing rainbow splattered all over, the complex body formation sculptures, the photography shots that captured realism.
It for some reason overflowed me with feelings that I could not, perhaps never, truly understand. But that stimulus could not compare to this particular painting. I didn’t know why, but it reminded me of memories that troubled me when I was young. I hated it, it made me feel bad, though it didn’t make me feel somber. It made me want more, more to discover my weeping past. Melancholic. A different depression that makes you yearn for more sadness. I don’t know how that works, but I was mesmerized. I didn’t even realize that I had stared at it for six hours, that might as well be the highlight of my research.
But even if I was the last one seen on camera, that doesn’t mean I was the last one in the building.
When I snapped back into reality, I walked towards the entrance door at the same time as someone barged in. I figured that he might have just forgotten something and quickly came in before the museum closed. It was someone younger than me, probably someone in college. But I must say, that whoever stole the painting had a good eye, and if I were the thief, I would have stolen that painting as well…
To be continued…
Part three will be in the next print issue of The Crimson Connection and will be uploaded online once the next issue comes out.
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