By: Jessica Jin

It all started when my teacher called my name.

“Elsa! You have been chosen to go to the new art school! I know you will do wonderfully,” Miss. Glee had announced.

I packed my bags because it was a boarding school and when I arrived at my new school, all I could see was art! The walls were covered in masterpieces and the rooms were full of all types of art. There was no math or reading, only art! I did well in almost all of the classes, but in one I just couldn’t get right.

“Elsa, my dear, you need to paint more realistically. You need to get out of your comfort zone and not paint so abstractly,” my realism teacher had said to me when I painted a wonky apple.

“I’ll try, but it is really hard to get the light and shadows just right,” I had said.

“But I’ve seen you work great with clay, and you paint abstractly really well,” the teacher responded. She was right, but whenever I painted on a canvas, I remembered how when my grandmother would teach me how to paint she would say, “The more realistic you make your art, the more you will remember why you are here.”

This memory made me sad that she wasn’t here anymore, and I lost my capacity to paint realistically. I decided to take a break and work on simple paintings before moving on to more difficult ones. I worked all the time, day and night. When I made a piece that was ok, I showed it to my realism teacher.

One night started like all the others, I lit a candle, got a cup of water, and then went to look for brushes, paint, and a canvas. I had to hide them since the rule was that you must return all tools after you are done using them.

When I tried looking for the brushes and canvas, I couldn’t find them. The janitor must have seen the ones I was hiding and took them, I thought. No, maybe it’s because my candle was getting too low, and the room was dark. I couldn’t turn on the lights since it would turn on all the lights in the hall. I kept looking, but I couldn’t find any replacement, so I went into one of the art rooms. I went into the realism painting room. I saw a glowing light and feeling curious went to see what it was. It was my teacher’s paint brush and set of canvases. I had no idea why they were glowing, but they were really nice, and they were the only ones I could find, so I decided to borrow them.

They worked like magic! The canvas took the paint really well and the paint brush was wonderous. I painted for hours. Once I was done, I was amazed. I had painted a beautiful house and a portrait of my grandmother, and it was realistic! I was very excited to show my work to all my teachers. However, when I got up, I tripped and fell right on the painting. I was horrified. I had ruined my painting.

When I opened my eyes, I saw my grandmother and she was looking at me with her warm, happy smile. I don’t know how I got here, but now I live in the painting with my grandmother.