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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2174099
Rated: E · Fiction · Women's · #2174099
An artist, by the name of Skye, sculpts a statue of her lover, only with a twist.
Her name was Elizabeth Perkins. At least, that's what her Mother named her. But, this little girl knew that her true name was something else.

Little Elizabeth was born to a single mother. Her mother had to make sacrifices to raise a child on her own but she made them gladly. She loved the little girl who laid alongside her breast. As the child grew, her mother noticed that Elizabeth wouldn't respond to her name. The doctor said that she may have hearing problems or cognitive issues. Her mother knew that neither of the doctor's suggestions were true. She was such a bright, energetic little thing!

By the time Elizabeth started talking, she would say "no" any time her mother would mention her name. By age three, she made it very clear that her name was not Elizabeth. By age five, the little girl wasn't sure what her true name was. She knew it wasn't Elizabeth, Lizzy, Beth, Betty or any of the other names her mother suggested. When she was eight, the girl came home from school and announced to her mother that she had found her true name. That name was Skye. No last name, just Skye. Her mother decided to humor the girl and started calling her Skye. She sent a note to her teachers and they in turn referred to her by her "true name." As the years passed, not only was the girl called Skye, she became Skye. Everyone called her Skye for she was not known by any other name.

The most amazing thing about Skye wasn't her beauty, although she was very beautiful. It was Skye's incredible knack for art. She could paint better than most people three times her age. From her first coloring book, to her first finger paint, her mother noticed Skye's beautiful technique and her usage of color. By nine, she was painting watercolors that rivaled Andrew Wyeth. Yet, as Skye grew, she grew less fond of her painting. She exclaimed that it didn't look "alive" enough. At eleven, Skye turned her hand to sculpting. In sculpting, Skye finally found the reason why her paintings didn't seem alive. They lacked depth; they lacked dimension.

Skye's first piece of sculpture was an apple, locked inside a little cage. She sculpted it from a single piece of wood. The cage even had a working lock that Skye designed and sculpted herself. It was tedious work, sculpting an apple in a cage. She told no one what the piece was going to be. She looked at the block of wood and saw the apple imprisoned within. It was her job to release it. Once her apple in a cage was revealed, her mother, along with everyone that had seen it, was astonished that a girl of such tender age could do such magnificent work. Yet, for Skye, there was something missing. The next day, Skye asked her mother for a paint box and some brushes. Her mother, thinking that Skye was giving up on her sculpting, happily bought her what she wanted. Sculpting was such messy work. A few days later, Skye returned to her mother to display her art. She had painted the apple in a cage. It looked so realistic, her mother had thought that Skye had replaced the wooden apple with a real one. The apple in a cage won her school's art fair easily. No one had seen such a talent at such an early age. It was as if she was channeling Michaelangelo.

All through high school, Skye would take pieces of stone and carve the most intricate patterns and sculpt some breathtaking pieces. She was hailed as an artistic genius. But Skye was never content with her sculpture until she painted it, making it come alive in a way no sculpture had before. Her fame grew exponentially day by day. When Skye completed high school, she was given a full scholorship to the Rhode Island School of Design, a top art school in the US. As if talent could be taught. Skye became more teacher than student. Her sculpting was perfect representations of whatever she decided upon. When she painted them, the pieces became more alive than many of the students.

In her senior year, Skye met a young man her own age, as he stood admiring one of her sculptures. His curly black hair and his sparkling blue eyes made Skye fall madly in love. For the next few months, whenever Skye wasn't sculpting or painting, she was with Jim, the man with the eyes of a poet and the soul of an impressionist. The world they shared was a world of visions and dreams, a world of impressions and unrealized beauty. They spent every waking moment together.

Jim was everything that Skye had hoped for in a man. He was broad shouldered, with a deep chest full of curly black hair. He was slim at the waist and hips and had the gentleness that belied his masculinity. Skye was hopelessly in love. Jim subsumed her passion for sculpting and replaced it with a passion she had never felt before. A passion she didn't know existed. And, as Skye began to lose herself in Jim, she noticed that he wasn't all that he could be. Jim was a wonderful painter but he lacked ambition. He was happy using his painting as a hobby. Skye couldn't understand Jim's apathy toward his art. She encouraged him to paint more, his post-impressionism spoke to her, she said. Jim, on the other hand, took Skye's encouragement as nagging. He became resentful of the fact that she couldn't accept him for who and what he is.

Skye was so blinded by her love for Jim that she purchased a five ton block of marble to sculpt the man she loved. Whenever Jim would go out, she would chisel away at the marble until his return. She started with his face, that sweet smile with the full lips that had pressed hers so often. The broad shoulders and the chest she had snuggled against so many times. Jim's time away from Skye started becoming more frequent and Skye confronted him. He said he had found another woman, a woman who could accept him for who he was. Skye begged Jim not to leave her. She wept upon his now uncaring chest. Jim was adamant, though, and departed after a brief argument.

Skye was crushed. She loved Jim as much as she had ever loved her art and now he was gone. In desolation and grief, Skye continued her work on Jim's sculpture. After Jim had been gone from Skye's life for a month, she began painting the sculpture that she began as a way to celebrate her love with Jim. A few weeks later, she unveiled the sculpture for the world to see. It was a perfect representation of Jim's face, with his sweet smile and sparkling blue eyes. The only things that kept it from looking exactly like Jim were the cloven hooves, horns protruding from his forehead and the tail.

Skye knew that she had a true name, so she decided to show Jim's true character.

Now, everyone knew who Jim was.
© Copyright 2018 Bobby Sunshine (fourbee at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2174099