7 5

"Africans...they can be so quick to point a finger of accusation at you, not caring if you're innocent or not...sad"

F.A.B

Poppy...

I dressed in my pajamas and went to look up the meaning of poppy.

"A type of plant that has bright red or orange flowers and that is the source of opium."

Someone called me a flower ...

But who brought this into my room?

I picked up the note again and noticed the neat cursive writing, why would anyone even get me a box of cookies? Does this mean I mean something to someone? I eyed the cookies on my bed and contemplated eating it, well, the huge foody that I am made me eat it, I munched away in the chocolate goodness, it was...glorious.

Poppy,

Why would anyone even call me this? And I have no idea who it could be, curse my reserved nature. If I interacted more, I'd have tried to figure out who could have sent this, the only person that I manage to talk to because I have no choice is Grace, and there's no way she's a lesbian, she couldn't have sent this anyway, she doesn't know my residence.

Nobody does...

This note could have been sent by someone in my hostel...but who? I need music...fast. I plugged in my headphones, I could have used my Bluetooth speaker, but I need to hear each and every word and beat...I listened to Jon Bellion's "I robot"...that should clear my head.

" I was a human,

Breathing and thinking,

Eating and drinking,

Philosiphizing,

I was a human,

Before you killed me

And ripped my heart out..."

My heart has been ripped out, I no longer feel emotions the way I should, I said it is cold to emotions, but it isn't...it's gone, it left along with my innocence, the trauma I once faced caused all this, I would still have some humanity in me if not for that event...now, I'm just a robot...

"Now when they ask me

I just reply slow

And sound like an iPhone

I do not know love

I am a robot..."

Music hits different wavelengths when you're sad...when you're happy you enjoy the music, when you're sad you understand the lyrics...I'm not sad.

I'm just numb.

Numb to the pain, numb to the reality, numb to how I should react...I can't explain this right now, but I'm just...numb.

.

.

.

I woke up with a start, I had slept off while listening to the music and it was still playing, I had put it on repeat. One thing I can't explain is how much an event can affect your life in so many ways...it makes you see the world differently...it makes you understand why some things happen, it makes you realize what you must have done wrong and probably how much mistakes you've made, it makes you know you have to appreciate what you have at that moment because you might not have it again. It just makes you see the different side of things it might make you bad, worse, good or better...it changes who you are, entirely.

I got up from bed and stared at the folded note again, I still have no clue as to who could have sent it. If there's one thing in this world that calms me apart from music, it's painting. I love the way the colours blend so perfectly, each time I pick up my brush and palette I have no idea what I'm going to paint, so I just let nature lead me on. It's one thing I don't place too much effort on to get my desired results, I'd have said photography, but I want to be the one to design the scene, to map it all out, to let my spirit lead me on to the next colour to use.

I picked up my brush not knowing what to paint, but having the feeling that whatever I'll be painting now is going to be a masterpiece.