Paramount’s Last Artist

 

Struggling with the loss of his grandfather, Ebe found himself at the old Paramount Art School, the last piece of his grandfather's magnum opus. It was more than a school; it was a treasure chest of his family's history, the only thing left. Life was rough for Ebe, with bullies making every day harder and his grandfather's comforting presence now just limited to a memory.

In the dusty corners of Paramount, Ebe stumbled upon an ordinary-looking paintbrush that was practically marinating in a strange liquid. It spoke to him with quiet words of advice. It was strange, sure, but Ebe felt like the brush understood him. Even with the brush's warning "this comes at a cost," Ebe was too curious to pay any heed to it.

He thought about what he felt—anger, sadness, a deep kind of hurt—and the brush seemed to get it, telling him to let those feelings out on the canvas. Naturally, rage dominated his other senses and Ebe let his anger lead the way, pushing everything else aside.

Ebe, through an impulsive outburst, started painting Tom, the bully who made his life miserable. As he painted Tom getting crushed by a tree trunk, a small, satisfied grin formed at the crease of his lips. But something was missing—there should be blood. He had a few colors but no red. Without any red, the brush nudged Ebe to use blue. "It's your imagination," it said. "It doesn't have to look real."

So Ebe splattered blue across the canvas, imagining Tom in a sea of it. He stepped back. It didn't quite look like Tom, and he told the brush so. "I only know one face, and that is yours," the brush replied, mysteriously.

Ebe, deciding it was the emotion that mattered, not the exact details, rolled up his artwork. The brush didn't want to go back to the sea of the undying; it wanted to stay with Ebe, to help him. But Ebe was scared—scared of what his dad would say if he found Grandpa's old brush in his room. So back it went to the old jar. If the brush could shout, it would have. Now it was feeling the rage.

A month passed by. Ebe's dad, cleaning up his room, found something hidden under the bed—a painting of a boy under a tree trunk, floating in a pool of blue. Shell-shocked, he felt like he was missing a piece of a puzzle. The painting depicted the way Ebe had died a month back.