AN ART TO REMEMBER

Prologue

Khiko ran fast as he could just so he wouldn't be late. It was f*****g seven forty two in the morning and he was about to be late at the call time of eight AM.

He was irritated and annoyed with the old driver who crashed into his car earlier so he was forced to run. He doesn't care if he loses his car as long as he arrives and reaches the Art Museum time.

He was also about to blow up the school he was attending because he couldn't understand their Professor, why they're repeatedly sent into that Art Museum?

Hell! It was boring to go into that place again. But of course, it is not true that he will blow up his school. Who the hell would do that? Of course! Maybe he was the first? He's really crazy! Indeed!

He smiled at his own thought and to the fact that he already arrived at the Art Museum. He will just cross in the road and he will be able to time in.

As he crossed in the road he did not expect a vehicle to crash. Fortunately, he was able to avoid it right away. Otherwise, he might have passed away early.

"Hey you moron! Are you going to kill yourself?!"

"No!" He quickly shouted at the old driver. He simply ran away because he had no intention of listening to his sermons because he would be late.

He smiled quickly when he remembered his answer to the old man.

Tsk. He is such a philosopher! A f*****g badboy.

He clenched his fists when he entered in front of the guard.

"Oh! It's good and you've made it. You really are the great buzzer beater. You really are! There's nothing left and someone has already won." 

He scoffed at him. "Brother Arnel, what else have I been a runner for?" 

"You're really a young! All right, your ID? So you can get in now." He quickly handed his ID to him. "Khiko Villaza, time in at seven fifty-seven."

"Nice! There's a mention of my handsome name."

Arnel laughed out loud. "I really don't know about you. Come in and get ready, this is your last year as a Photographer Student so you just have to have something in your brain, not pure nonsense."

He frowned at him. "Brother Arnel! I'm a smart. Tsk. You take care of that and your handsome Visitor will leave."

Tsk. He ignored brother Arnel's loud laugh instead he left it there like a crazy laughing. He picked up the camera hanging around his neck and checked to see if it was set up correctly.

He lazily captured the paintings hanging on the walls. He was annoyed because nothing had changed for those hanging there. He coudn't understand their Professor because it had done nothing but to insist what she wanted to find something attractive for her. Almost all of the Arts that are here have been taken by him and shown to her insane teacher.

No mercy! It's my birthday today but where I am? I am f*****g here at the boring Art Museum.

That was his grievance. Today is his twenty-one years existence and he has a feeling that his day is not going to be well.

Tsk. It was early in the morning and his life was on the brink of death. Haist! I just don't know in the next few hours and days. Haist! Why I am thinking this right now? my brain is weird. Usually what is in my brain is pure food. Tsk. Suddenly I was hungry!

In the extent of the Art Museum, he sees only a few people. He thought of sitting on the side when he got tired. His ass wasn't even warming up when he noticed something. 

Huh? What is that?

There was a small path on the side and since he was also a great gossip he quickly sneaked into it. But, he was stopped when he entered at the mouth. His heart was beating so fast. He was enveloped in horror and immediately got terrified. He couldn’t understand, why is he seemed to feel so bad in this place.

He will admit, he is afraid of ghosts or any kind of creature that is scary. Yes, he knew he looked like a gay by that but he couldn’t get rid of the fear for himself.

He wandered his whole eyes around but he was really the only person here. He also noticed the single painting hanging in the middle part. Half of the human is its size.

He was nervous but still tried to steady himself and quickly approached the painting. He prepared the camera and quickly took a picture of it. On the second press he should do in the button he suddenly stopped.

He swallowed leaving the camera hanging around his neck. The longer he stared at the painting, the faster his heart beat. At first glance, it seems ordinary but when you stare for a long time, it seems weird because his point of view on the painting seems to change.

There's something about this painting that he can't name it. Khiko started to feel a lot of emotion; pain, hatred, suffering, hope, love, regret, and most of all sorrow.

The weird way he felt. He couldn't take his eyes off to the painting. He wanted to run and leave the place because he was gradually drowning in the emotions it conveyed.

He was even more frightened when suddenly someone grabbed his shoulder. He was startled and stiffened to his feet. He was terrified and his heartbeat quickened. He was about to faint. His sweat is already stamped.

Damned it! Don't let me die like this!

He didn't want to but he was forced to look behind him. It's like he's in a horror film and he's the protagonist who looks back and then an ugly creature was there. He even imagines himself with his eyes widening as someone whispers behind him that- 'don't look back' and because the gossip is in his blood he will automatically turn his head backwards which is why he will die. 'Cause of death: fear'.

"Wew! Gosh Maryosep grandma! You scared me!"

He felt like there was a thorn had been pulled out of his throat. He took a deep breath and winced, scratching his head.

"I'm sorry hijo, I've noticed you're staring at that painting?"

He looked at the painting again before turning his gaze back to the old woman. "C-cause grandma, I don't know why but it looks like there's something weird wrapping at that painting. I can't explain but it looks like there's really something else."

The old woman smiled slightly before turning her gaze to the painting. "Would you like to hear the story behind that painting?"

"Story?" The old woman nodded.

"Yes! the story behind every paint drawn."

He scratched his head so hard.

I don't want to listen but it looks like grandma's eyes are sad. Maybe she remembered something and it was a bad memory.

He sighed and stared at the painting again. "What's the story behind of it?" He asked weakly but he knew it reached the old woman's hearing.

"This is the story behind the six students who were sacrificed and killed." He stiffened on the stand and his narrowed eyes slightly widened. "The story behind the woman who are repeatedly dreams of a man. She didn't expect the man to be real and meet but in return she was suffering and misery."

His eyes lost emotion. Upon reopening the old woman's mouth he also swallowed his surroundings towards a scene behind the story of each drawing in the painting.