I have always been a bit different than other people. My emotions seem to take full control over me sometimes. I am young but I feel much older. I don’t have the same gleam of excitement that I can see in the eyes of my peers. Sometimes I’m disappointed in myself when I think about how isolated I have become. I usually just turn to my studio.

Sometimes it’s nice to leave my emotions behind but it’s impossible to ignore them indefinitely. The moment my brush gracefully glides across my canvas, I am content. Then that moment passes and I am left with an empty, raw resentment. I often see the way people stare at me or whisper as I pass by, but as long as I hide my true self, they always forget. The last thing I want is for people to ask me questions about the way I feel. With my constantly wavering emotions, I don’t even really know how I feel. Why should I have to tell others about it?

I am trapped in an emotional spiral of doom—if that is the proper way to describe it. All I want is to feel happy, even if it is just for a little while. Happiness is the cure for any man’s average dilemma, so I am guessing it would not be strong enough to solve mine. However, there is always the possibility that it will work. How does one come across happiness? I see it wherever I go but can never get a glimpse of it. The happiest thing in my life that I can think of is yellow paint. It somehow makes me feel a little better—temporarily of course.

I wonder . . . if I just . . . I don’t know. It’s probably not a great idea, but it is very intriguing. Something is telling me not to do it, but I seem to be left with no other options. It would be so easy. One little spoonful of yellow and all my horrible, rotten feelings would go away just like that. I am positive that just eating it will make me feel so much happier. I have reached the end of my patience. There is no way I can go on unless this works. What to do . . . what to do . . . it just sits there, looking just like all the happy, laughing faces that pass by me every day. I am constantly rejected and thrown away and yet I put up with it.

Would yellow paint put up with this kind of thing? I don’t think so.

If beautiful, bright, vibrant yellow will not put up with this sort of treachery, why should I?

I will not! No longer will I let the cruel world take a hold of my heart so violently. Now is my time! This is my moment. It could be the start of a new life, and a new me. I’m going for it. I feel a rush of excitement as I pour some yellow paint into a deep spoon.

Will it really work? Who knows?

I will never know if I don’t try.

It looks like liquid gold sitting still inside the spoon.

I quickly make up my mind and shove the golden happiness into my mouth and it feels odd. I don’t care. As I said, I have been left with no other options. It seems to be working. The yellow paint is making me happier. I can feel it! This is it, this is the moment when my sadness will go away forever. I have done it! The paint slowly coats my throat and it drips into the cavern of my stomach.

My golden elixir doesn’t seem quite as magical anymore. I feel the paint rising back up into my mouth as I gag. My teeth are glazed with a light yellow shine. I cannot tell if my plan is working. Am I happy yet?



Artwork By Vincent Van Gough

Written by

Grace Wakeling

Grace Wakeling, junior, loves spending time with her friends and family. She is the Managing Editor for The OLu MUSE, and she enjoys writing very much. Her other interests include reading, drawing, and eating ice cream. Also, her favorite book is The Perks of being a Wallflower by Stephen Chbosky.