Chapter 1

20th September

BIG BANG PAINTAING – LAYER 1

I’m stuck in a dreamy circle, like a non-stop merry-go-round, and it is the same every time…
Years have gone past and there it is before me, the white empty canvas. I paint it black and I
paint some more, but it always starts with some kind of a vortex in the universe. I paint swirls of
blue within the blackness.

The next thing… I’m there, back again at the London Underground Station. I can feel mom
holding my little hand, a grip too firm, almost tugging me through the rush hour crowd. People
were pushing and pulling at one another without intending to. I feel so small and the world is so
big.

I can feel the vibrations of the underground trains thundering past, but there is another kind of
vibration… Something strange and different, something that no one else seems to notice. The
people around me looked normal, like nothing was amiss. I see the spinning coin on the floor,
when suddenly there is a loud BANG!

I shoot up in bed and I’m wide awake to that terrifying loud noise. My heart is palpitating at a
fast rate, but I already know it’s still three o’clock. It's dark out the window and that little
frightened girl inside just won’t move on. Why can't I just let go of the past?

At 24 years old, you would think I’m all grown up, but it still haunts me, like a shadow I cannot
get rid of. I don't know if I will ever be able to escape it. It still feels like it was yesterday. I’m
drenched in sweat and so are my bed sheets… again. Will this ever end, the nightmares, the
past, the ache in my heart, will I ever break free? Will things ever go back to normal? I don't
have an irking of what's normal anymore.

It is always so tiring when I try to speak, but nothing comes out. So much so I have given up
trying. No fault of mine. The doctors, the hospitals and all the tests confirm there is absolutely
nothing wrong with my vocal cords, and there is Mrs. Jones, my psychologist.

She is not one for written conversation. Week in, week out, she tries all her ideas to help me
speak, but there is never one word that I can utter, no matter how much I try, no matter how
much I want to. She once tried hypnosis, bad mistake! Apparently, I just froze and then shook
like a wet fish washed up by the waves. I couldn’t speak one word, but still, bless her, she tried
to help. That was something. Isn't it?

I often wondered of the limitations, but I know things could have been much worse than writing
my way through the days. Mom and dad had no family, none I know of, and I was raised from
one orphanage to another. Not a superb way to grow up, if you ask me.
There was this one time though, and only the one where my lips uttered a single word and never
ever since. It was like a sort of time-bound miracle. I doubt if I will ever forget that day.

I remember staying a few nights at one particular orphanage while I was been transported to
an all girls’ school. Those few days changed my direction in life and shaped me, Isabelle Reed,
into the emerging young artist of our time. Not my words, but a quotation by a recent
magazine.

It is all-flattering to have one's work appreciated, but I do it for the love… A love which was
shown to me that night at the stop-off orphanage. I was too young to remember the name of
the place or the dates, but I do remember the big black doors when I first arrived.

MamaB, they called her, when the doors opened. There was a birthday celebration that night
and she let me attend to play with the other children and to have some cake. Some sweet delish
that was. I remember it was an all boys Catholic orphanage and some of the kids would whisper
things about the birthday boy. I heard them say he was strange and that he would only have a
short time to be around the other children. I had no idea why. I had just arrived. I remember
walking through the group of kids when someone bumps into me and I dropped my lucky coin!

I panicked! I go everywhere with that coin. It never leaves my hand. It was like a second skin,
sort of. In a weird way, it brings peace and comfort, especially in those moments when things
become chaotic. I looked for my coin, but I couldn’t find it anywhere amongst all the other
children's feet. I could feel a tear working its way out, but then, suddenly, I felt someone touch
my hand. It was the strange birthday boy. He held my hand, then he placed the lucky coin firmly
into my palm and closed my hand into a fist for me.

He smiled. I remember feeling kind of shy. I never had a boy hold my hand before. Then it
happened, “Ta..." Was uttered and for the first time I could remember in a long time, I heard
my own voice. I was so shocked, I touched my own lips in surprise.

The cute birthday boy smiled with a nod, then Mama B shouted everyone across for some cake
and that was the last time I saw the strange birthday boy. If you ask me, he wasn’t strange at
all, but cute and very kind, he was the boy that made me speak for the first time, in a very long
time.

I remember that was the night I met her. The wonderful woman, Sister Healer they called her. I
only spent a short time around her. She was such a bubbly character and she carried some kind
of an aura, like a spiritual authority and thanks to her, I was introduced to the world of arts and
it was Sister healer who first placed a paintbrush in my hand.

A short time later, I was fostered by a lovely couple, the Robinsons. They were good to me. John
and Linda never had their own kids and I never asked why, but they were kind and helped me to
develop my artistic skills.
Oh, it is morning now and I love watching the sunrise through the window. It has become the
norm and every night like clockwork, I repeat this process. It affects my whole life, including my
relationships. I couldn’t keep a man for more than a few weeks, before they got fed up and
moved on. The first hurdle is the speech but then they couldn’t cope with my stability. The
sleepless nights, sporadic panic attacks and my lack of socializing at parties or gatherings. The
same excuses all the time. “It’s not you, it's me kind of thing.” But then again, I did feel relief
once they had gone.

Thank God for Leo. Since we met, things have changed in my world. The dreams have become
less toxic. My hope and confidence for a better future is growing. There is something amazing
about this guy and I think that I have truly fallen for him. Head over heels kind of thing. Things
that used to hold me back, the fear and the anxieties have all faded, almost gone.

Talking about gone, the sun is up and so am I. Big day ahead with the preparations for my Paris
exhibition coming up in about five days time. I really hope Leo can make it. I want him close. His
presence always make me feel like a bird, soaring in the sky with no limits. I will ask him again.
No pressure.