Quintessentialist

There was tunnel.

        A black tunnel.
               
            And there was a light at the end.
   
    I couldn’t touch it.

        But I saw it.
   
            And it was like nothing I’d ever seen before.

There was a light at the end of tunnel.

And I was going to grab it.
   
    Touch it.

    Hold it.

                Right.

                 ~~~

    My lovlies,

    Today we will create something,

                   out of nothing

                   out of matter

                   out of particles

                   out of the air that surrounds us.

Madame De Galle spun in circles.

    You don’t know it yet.

                    But you will.

                    Because I’ll teach you all I know.

                    And though that is all I can give,

                    I will give it merrily.

Madame De Galle grinned, and the class grumbled.

    Damn art teacher.

    What a bunch of nonsense.

Raven grinned up at Madame De Galle, in her mind.

They were one of the same.

    Artists.

    Vagabonds.

    Rebels.

    Hedonists.

    Darling people.

Madame De Galle passed out a set of charcoals.

    My darlings,

        Draw your way through the darkness

            Bring light to charcoal, if you can.

                I dare you.

So she did.

And Raven brought light to the canvas, and brought light to her own thoughts.

Madame De Galle smiled down at Raven.

    Raven,

        You’re marvelous.

            ~~~

The charcoal drawing was stuffed smartly into Raven’s messanger bag.

    Hanging across her shoulder.

    Like a third arm.

    Or a sixth sense.

    More likely.

            Slut.

Raven stopped.

                Excuse me?

And again she heard it.

            Slut.

Her being shook with anger.

        She hurt.

            She trembled.

                She could hardly

                    breath.

         Who said that?

            Me.

Raven spun around.

Katerina stood before her.

    Grey eyes.

    Brown locks of loveliness.

    Graceful stance.

    Taunting the bird with a handful of feed.

        You heard me. Stop fucking around with  my boyfriend.

Raven’s mouth dropped.

            I wouldn’t touch your boyfriend.

    Katerina slapped Raven as a result of denial.

        You fucking liar.

        You fucking slut.

        You fucking little whore.

                        Slam.

Katerina stumbled across the floor and hit a row of lockers.

Raven’s blood boiled.

She awoke.

        It’s but a dream, my darling dove, but a dream…

        Blurred eyes.

        Smokey room.

    With snow white hair and black, black eyes.

    A dove,

            not a raven.

                    No.

                    No.

                Only a dream, darling.