K A R E E N A
So frail and sweet.
Stress will make her heart beat.
But just a little too fast and she'll surely be in the past.
So shush. She just needs you to hush.
Stress will make her heart beat.
But just a little too fast and she'll surely be in the past.
So shush. She just needs you to hush.
Sitting against the cold window of the shared dorm room was Kareena, pouty lips pursed as she held the pencil up against them. For the last hour Kareena had been working on school work, since she was at an art school she was working her hardest. Every once in a while she got distracted, the window never being an overall wise place for her to sit anyway. She would sit there working away at one out of two drawings and go to change the level of her blinds when she would see a fellow classmate playing with their dog or something, of course she would watch them being jealous that they were outside on Thanksgiving while she was sitting inside drawing. It wasn't that she hated drawing, she would never hate drawing. Art was creative, art was passion, art was whatever she wanted it to be. At the moment though, art was homework. Homework that she kept getting distracted from. Positioned around her slightly curled up body were an assortment of things, mostly pencils, pens, and erasers. All of them were close to being worn down, dried up, and practically used up. It was on her list to ask her mother nicely to get more, yet she had a feeling her mother would reply with the usual, 'Kareena don't you have enough?' reply that she often got around her birthday or Christmas when all she asked for were markers. Those markers were expensive though, it wasn't like she could get the 100 pack at Wal-mart or anything. They had to be ordered online color by color and tip by tip, which was often a long and tedious project for anyone but herself. Just like stamp collectors collected stamps (duh), artists collect art supplies and Kareena was no exception. Her collection was in fact markers, from every color to every brand to even the nice smelly markers that everyone claimed to get high off of. All these markers were currently set around her, yet half were on the floor too considering every time she moved more and more would fall.
Letting a large sigh escape those now un-pouted lips Kareena moved a little, cascading markers or many colors to the floor like the skittles commercials. "Taste the rainbow." she said softly to herself with a smile before resting her homework sketch pad near her slipper-ed feet. Appearing on the once blank canvas paper was a design, one seen on many Internet sites before. Originally the assignment had been to go on photobucket and fine something of your interest, but deviant art often worked better for her. I was the outline of a girl, red lips contradiction with the black hair sweeping across her face and the constant loops and circles in the background, a blue outline of a brain was drawn between her locks of hair, gears placed randomly among it. Kareena had not a clue why she chose this piece, considering it wasn't even fun to draw, but at least it was sort of...fun?
Finally getting the urge to get up and go to the Thanksgiving feast, which meant she would have to stay calm through all the chatter and things of that nature, Kareena got up from her window seat and threw herself onto her bed. She could hear the fall of the markers and couldn't help but smile softly, knowing that she would have to clean that up sometime. Yet, that time was not now. her head bobbed up for a quick moment as she heard someone enter the dorm, assuming it was her best friend she just let her head flop back down. She wanted to great him, but just felt a little too tired to do much anything at the moment. This morning she had another panic attack, those attacks of hers seeming more and more often as the days went by. It was from the stress though, assignments that weren't done were practically screaming panic. She was prone to it though, an over active imagination and a heart malfunction, doesn't that just scream peace?
Anyway; The panic attacks often left her quieter than normal but even less willing to go out and do something, for she never liked having more than one attack per day. Last time that happened she had been in the hospital sucking on oxygen just to make sure her heart didn't give out on her. Of course, being in the hospital made her even more upset which led to her heart skipping a few beats, causing panic among the staff and her parents. That was last month though, this was this month, maybe she would try to calm down a little.
Bringing herself from the worn comforter that was spread across her twin sized bed Kareena assumed it was finally time to start her day, especially since the feast was going on. At the moment it wasn't a priority though, there were many other things she could be doing like making stops at the grocery store for her mother and father, working down at the pet adoption center, or something along those lines. Something that helped out someone else instead of stuffing her face with soggy bread crumbs and turkey that might have been sitting out for a while. Oh be nice, she thought to herself as she stepped into the shared bathroom. This bathroom was a mess, basically. There caps for film array sporadically through out the draws and tons of random paint brushes with dried, cracked paint appearing on their bristles. Sighing with a soft smile on her face she began to tidy it, knowing that her best friend didn't enjoy cleaning, and she didn't really mind doing so for him.
Almost an hour later she was back in her room, having cleaned the bathroom, taken a shower, and curled her hair into soft ringlets. Her eyes were outlined in a sultry black that made them look even more doe-like than before. Her overall style was something slightly Gothic, but without any black. Gothic being more as in the Renaissance. She wasn't really one to go out and spend fifty dollars on a shirt from Pac-Sun or something like that, she preferred Outfitters anyway. In about five minutes she was dressed, a pair of soft, tight, blue jeans were pulled onto her figure coming up below her hips and a tank top, the color being fuschia, was put under a slightly slopping oversize tee that was pushed off one shoulder. Overall she looked like an artist, probably because the shirt read 'Make art not War'. Even though her attire was for art, she did look sort of cute, at least she thought she did. Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, that's what her mother always claimed.
With one last glance in the mirror she found herself out the door, a small tote at the crook of her arm just in case she needed anything like money or something else of that sort. Essentials basically. So ther she stood, outside of the dining hall that is, already gettting nervous because of all the activitey going on inside. Swallowing the lump in her throat she stepped inside, only to see that it wasn't as bad as she thought. Well, how amazingly quiet was she expecting with over three hundred teenagers yelling to one another about what their teachers had told them about their projects the day before? Not very.
