The Code Of The Alpha

"Would you hush?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Well, stop thinking so loud."

I heard Mady huff from somewhere in the room behind me, but my eyes were glued in front of me.

With stiff and aching fingers, I lifted the small detailing brush from the palette and leaned forward, ignoring the pain in my lower back.

Holding my breath, I gently swept the brush along the canvas, letting the beige acrylic paint cover the markings of where I had outlined with a graphite pencil.

I let out a long, exasperated sigh of relief as I finished the last upward stroke of the brush. "Are you done? Can I see?"

I felt Mady's presence invade the space behind me as she leaned forward to get a better look at the canvas propped against the wall that I sat in front of.

"Carrie, that looks great."

"I hate painting hands," I admitted, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion pass over me.

"No, it looks really good."

I glanced over the canvas that was partially painted and partially outlined with a graphite pencil. An old dusty picture was clipped up at the top of the canvas, serving as my guide to what the painting itself would look like when it was finished.

"I'm exhausted."

"I don't see why you felt the need to stay up all night doing this," Mady said.

"You could just paint little bits and pieces at the time and you would be able to finish it gradually instead of only working on it in bursts of sporadic energy.

"That's when I paint best," I argued, throwing my brush into the plastic cup filled with water.

I slowly began to get off the stool I had been sitting on for hours, wringing out my hands. Stretching my arms out behind me and in front of me, I felt my spine pop in several different places. Letting out a deep breath, I bent down to grab the back of my calves as I stretched out my back even more.

"Besides," I continued, "I have to have that done by their anniversary at the end of next month.

I stood up slowly to take one last look at the incomplete painting that would soon be a gift. It was a portrait of my parents as they walked down the aisle, the two of them newly married.

She was in her long, flowy wedding dress; her veil billowing behind her and a beaming, youthful smile on her face. He was in a simple black tux as he marched forward confidently, holding my mother's hand. A similar smile was plastered across his face.

I reached above me to turn off the light that hung over the canvas.

"What time is it?" I asked, rubbing my tired eyes.

Mady looked down at her watch.

"Almost three."

I groaned. "I'm going to bed," she said, yawning. I felt terribly guilty. Her and I were supposed to be finishing up the last season of the show we'd been binging for the past few weeks, but I'd gotten side-tracked with the painting.

"I'm sorry, Mady," I said earnestly.

" I didn't mean to get caught up."

"No worries. I was able to finish my reading for civil procedure so it's all good."

I grimaced at the thought of assigned reading.

Mady was in her first year of law school. She was studying to get her juris doctorate so she could become an attorney and one day, a judge like her dad.

I, on the other hand, was happy with my bachelor's degree in English. It allowed me to live as a professional starving artist, even though I technically never starved since I worked as a part-time librarian and a part-time art teacher at the elementary school.

"What time are we leaving tomorrow morning?" I asked her.

"I'm planning on being over there by ten."