TW: Implied emotional and physical abuse, LGBT

Art is a wonderful thing. It can express emotion. It can make you feel emotion. Sometimes, it's just a pretty thing to look at. Whatever you think art is, it doesn't matter because I'll like it anyway.

This is precisely why I decided to stop being a damn coward and enter an art competition. 

The only problem is I have been lacking motivation lately. 

I glance around my room. Towers of loose paper and a whole shelf of books. Horribly painted violet walls and a ton of food crumbs. A bed that hasn't looked neat in about a week. And through all this mess of a room, I can't find a single form of inspiration. I really do not want to go out today, but if I'm ever going to find motivation, I need to get out of this stinking room.

I throw on some clothes I found on my bedsheet not bothering to care what I look like. Same curly, brown hair and dead, gray eyes. Not that I want to look like this, but what can I do? I take my sketchbook with me. Don't want to lose my ideas before I can write them down.

I trudge outside my room into the corridor, silently praying that my mom was still at work. 

She was not.

"Hey dumbass, you finally got out of that hellhole you call a room?" my 'mother' says. 

Her icy, blue eyes dart towards my own. She's drinking...again.

"I'm just going out to get some coffee," I reply hoping I can leave as soon as possible. 

"Oh Noelle, your rent is due soon," she adds pushing her curly, brown hair out of her face.

"Yea, I know. I get my paycheck on Monday...bitch."

"I'm sorry, what was that last part?" 

Shit

"Nothing, I was just thinking to myself."

"You better have the money by then or you're going to get a beating," her eyes go towards my sketchbook. "Better not be drawing again. I already told you that you're going to be a lawyer and earn me a lot of cash."

"Yes, Mother. I should go."

I sprint out the door, shutting it with great precaution. Don't want to piss her off more than I just did.

After finally breathing fresh air after who knows long, I start walking around aimlessly. Nothing interesting me in the slightest.

Inspiration. Inspiration. Where do I get inspiration from?

People? No, too complicated. A landscape maybe? No, too boring. 

I think and think and think. But nothing comes to me...until I come across a flower shop. I lay my eyes upon the most beautiful pot of flowers I've ever seen. The yellow light of the sun perfectly complimented the vivacious, purple petals. The slightly wrinkled leaves shaped the flower admirably. 

This was my inspiration. 

I glanced into the stand to see if anyone was there. There stood the most alluring girl I have ever seen. Her stunning, jet-black hair fell to her shoulders. Her delicate brown eyes and skin were blithe. 

I had to talk to her! This was my chance to make friends. Oh wait, I'm an unsocial freak who can't make friends because I keep 'intoxicating' them. Maybe I should just buy the flower and get out. I'm hopeless.

"Hi! Can I help you find a specific plant, or do you just want to wander around?" the girl said as I approached the stand.

"I'm Noelle," I say realizing she doesn't give a fuck about my name. "What's the purple flower over there called?"

"Oh! That's a Monarda or a Bee Balm which is the more commonly known name. They're beautiful, aren't they?"

"Yea, they are, just like you." 

"I'm sorry, what was that last part? I didn't hear you."

"Oh- uh, nothing. Just thinking out loud." 

She flashes an adorable, toothy smile, giving out a little chuckle. 

"Anyways, a Monarda is very low maintenance. Just make sure it gets a lot of sun and good soil. It only needs to be watered about once a week. It's great to keep in your backyard!"

I can already imagine my painting. Swirling colors of green and purple. Yellow highlights and a big, pretty sky. 

"I'll take it! Thank you."

 I take out my wallet and give her my $10. She gives me my change and stops me as I'm about to leave. 

"Hey, I like you. There are barely any people my age who show the same passion for plants as I do. Do you maybe want to be friends?"

My jaw clenches. I give her an awkward smile. A really awkward smile.

"U-um, sure. Well, I really only like to paint plants. They are really pretty."

"Wow, you paint? I'd love to see some of your work sometime!"

"Sure. Well, actually...there's this art competition at my school. I'm entering my art in. You should come! It's next Sunday at 2."

"I'll be there. Thanks, Noelle. I hope I'll see you here again!"

"Uh, I'll make sure to come again. Bye...um-"

"My name is Hailey."

"Hailey! Bye, Hailey."

And I walk back home feeling satisfied.

~~~~~~~ 

Mom must have left for work since she isn't here. Thank spaghetti. 

I grab gardening tools from the shed. I immediately planted the flower outside, not taking more than an hour. If I could see myself, I swore I would be grinning cheek to cheek. I started painting. The watercolor bled through the paper. I captured the flecks of sunlight over the petals. The texture of the leaves and stem. The bees that the plant had attracted. And in the background, I painted a breath-taking sunset, indicating how late it had gotten.  

Just as I finished and added my signature, my mom came home. I couldn't let her see this. Except, it was too late.  

Her mouth dropped open. She was staring at the Bee Balm. Tears burned her cheeks. 

"Is that...a Monarda?" she said, her lip was quivering. 

"Yes. I know you said no painting, but I had to get this done. For school! Please don't leave me outside!"

Then she wrapped me in her warm embrace. The warm embrace I had always longed for since I was a toddler. I still recognize the familiar smell. The smell of my mother. 

"I'm sorry" I could hear her mumbling over and over again.

 But how could I forgive her? I wanted to forgive her. She let go of me. Her eyes are in-line with mine. Except it wasn't the normal glare I was given for so long. Her eyes expressed sadness and heartbreak. I could see it in the way her face drooped. 

"Did you know Monardas attract bees? They love them. I love them. My dad loved them too." she explained. 

I just nodded.

"I've always wanted to be a beekeeper. Just like Dad."

"A beekeeper? Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously." Her eyebrows furrowed. 

"Sorry."

"Did I ever tell you how I got this scar on my arm?" I think she was trying to change the subject.

"No, you always ignored me when I asked about it."

"It was my mom,"

My mouth gaped. It all made sense. She couldn't parent me right because she wasn't parented right. I never did wonder why she hated me so much. Mother got up and walked back inside, dragging her feet. She knew she didn't have to explain.

"Forget about rent," she said before closing the screen door. "You're my daughter, and a mother doesn't make their child pay to live with them. I'll start going to therapy like your father always told me to. I'll be better, I promise, Noelle."

"Weird."

 It was very weird, but I had a feeling that maybe she would be my mom again. The one I've always wanted

I let the paint dry, and before I knew it, it was the day of the competition. 

I was looking through the crowd trying to find someone I know. Specifically, a flower-loving, brown-eyed, brunette. To my surprise, I found my mom, looking at my painting. 

"Hey, Noelle. I never realized how good you were at art. It's amazing." And she smiled. I'll have to get used to that. 

"Noelle!" a voice called out.

Finally. She came. Wearing a yellow sweater, a white skirt that came to her knees, and long leggings. She even has a better fashion sense. 

"I knew you would make it! I'm so glad you came! I thought you weren't going to show." I said.

"Of course, I came! Is this your art?"

"Yeah. It's the Bee Balms you sold to me the other day."

"Wow, it's so pretty. The watercolor is so beautiful! You are way too talented!"

"Aw, you're making me blush. Thank you!"

"Cmon, let's go look at your competition. I bet they're not as good as yours."

With that, she drags me down the hallway because we have to start from the beginning according to Hailey.

~~~~~~

I got 9th place out of 15. I don't really care that I lost though. I participated. I found a new friend after years of trust issues. My relationship with my mom is repaired. 

I bought a plant from a plant store.

Suddenly, everything in my life starts going great...

"A bit too great."

"Huh?" Hailey looks at me questioningly as she sips her coffee.

I simply give her the sweetest smile I can and say-

"My life is going great."

Prompt: You buy a plant from a plant store.

Suddenly, everything in your life starts going great... 

A bit too great.