My Love From The Canvas

Unknown POV They keep me with old things but my place is so beautiful. It has colors you’ve never even imagined and flowers of every kind. I have a small house though it looks much bigger on the inside. Not that I’m ever in there though. I see people pass me by all day, every day. Sometimes they stop for a little while, though never for long. But she stops, and stays, and looks at me. She sees me. Jamie. She talks to me, she tells me everything; all her problems. I probably know more about her than her parents. More often than not, she just sits there and reads… or studies. Jamie is getting her degree in art history. She’s so smart, and so funny. People don’t get her like I do, which I know is such a cliché, but it’s true, I see everything, even the things she doesn’t realise she shows. Jamie works every Monday, Wednesday and Friday from 8.30 to 9, although most nights she stays until almost midnight before she locks up and goes home, and why would I complain about a few extra hours with the woman I love? I’ve had to watch her go on dates with guys that don’t understand how lucky they are to be within arms reach of her. She brings them here sometimes the others I tend to hear about the next day. There have been three this past month. The first just went on and on all about himself. I don’t think he asked her even one question. He wasn’t even smart enough to get her not-so-subtle hints that she wanted to leave. The second one was way too handsy, he kept trying to touch her, her arm, her hair, her back. I’ve never wanted to hit someone more than that guy right then. When he tried to kiss her at the end of the night and she pushed him away, my smile was so big that it hurt. The third one was the worst by far. It started out well, which was bad news for me, but then he asked her about what she wanted to do with her life, then gestured to the whole room and said, “This can’t be it.” Jamie’s look of pure anger must have mirrored my own. When she told him she was getting her masters in art history, he said that was ‘ridiculous’ and that she should ‘choose something more realistic’. She ended the date immediately after that, and would you believe he asked about a second date? She flat out told him, “No." Anyway, back to the present, Jamie is reading one of her favourite books for the 4th time this month with her earbuds in, while I admire her from afar like usual. She is wearing a ruffled spaghetti strap top that shows off her perfect shoulders and flows over her curves perfectly, the way her acid-wash denim shorts wrap around her thighs is very distracting and even the sight of her adorable toes wiggling in her sandals when she gets to a part of the book she likes is enchanting, her hair is in a high ponytail to keep it out of her face, which gives me a perfect view of the little furrow in her brows as she concentrates. Something catches my eye in the back of the room. For a moment, it looks like the shadows of people but no one else is here, so I dismiss it as my imagination, but then I hear someone say, “No one was supposed to be here, why are there lights on!” Then a second voice says “We’ll just handle it, won’t we. We can’t afford to get caught.” My chest tightens with terror and I bang to try to get Jamie’s attention, but she can’t hear or see me. I catch a glimpse of what looks like a gun handle and start to scream “Move!” as loud as I can just praying that just this once she’d be able to hear me. But she didn’t even blink oblivious to the fact that she is in danger and that my heart was about to explode from terror. I can’t let them hurt her, she is all I have. I begin to push on the barrier separating us. I don't know what to expect but I have to do something, I have to try. I push as hard as I can and suddenly I start to hear tearing, praying that it was what I was hoping for, I push even harder. Then I hear a loud bang I look up and see Jamie crumble to the floor “No! No, no, no.'' I put all my strength into my next push. The tearing sound is replaced by the sound of air rushing past my ears as I fall to the cold marble floor. My hands feel wet, I look down and see they are covered in viscous red liquid. Blood. As realisation dawns on me I scramble as fast as I can to Jamie’s side. I lift her head onto my lap and hold her hand lacing our fingers together like I’ve always wanted to. I reach into her bag fishing for her phone to dial 112. Once I’ve dialled 112 it feels like an eternity before someone picks up, before they can speak I rush through an explanation of what happened, they begin asking me questions and the few that I understand I answer. Just as I am starting to get annoyed they inform me that help is coming and to leave the line open. After an absent minded yes I toss the phone to the side and focus my attention back on Jamie and whisper “No, please you can’t leave me, we haven’t even gotten to know each other yet.” My throat feels thick and I have a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. I use my free hand to brush away the few rogue strands of hair that have escaped from her ponytail. Even like this she was beautiful. She looks unnaturally pale and her breathing is shallow. With every second that passes I blame myself for not getting to her sooner and for not being able to do anything even now. As I wallow in self pity I notice Jamie’s eyes flutter open and lock onto mine. This feels so much better than before. This time she can actually see me. After Jamie’s eyes slip closed once again I turn to look back at my place. It’s weird seeing it from this side, it's even weirder that I’m not there. I just sit there and stroke Jamie’s forehead and after what feels like an eternity I hear sirens. Finally Jamie is going to get help. I look down at her to see that her chest is no longer moving. I place a trembling finger under her nose and when I feel nothing my heart begins to thud painfully in my chest as if it could beat for the both of us. I start to panic and scream for help. As the paramedics round the corner, drawn in by my cries for help, I move back to make room for them. They move towards her. I watch as they touch two fingers to her neck then stick these plastic-y looking things attached to a machine on her chest. All the while using terms I can’t even begin to understand. They yell ‘Clear’ before they press a button that makes her whole body jolt. One of them puts their fingers on her neck again, shakes their head and then the other shouts ‘Clear’ and they press the button again. They press her neck again and then pick her up and put her on a bed with wheels, a gurney they called it. Then they start to wheel her out of the museum. I quickly grab Jamie's stuff off the floor and race to catch up to them just in time to see them load her into a big vehicle that says ‘AMBULANCE’ in all caps on the front and the side. I asked if I could go with her and one of the paramedics gave me a once over before nodding and I climbed in after her. Once the paramedics assure me that Jamie is in a relatively stable condition I release the breath I didn’t even know I was holding, I feel a weight lift off my chest and finally look down at myself. I'm wearing a charcoal three piece suit with a bright red striped tie with a matching flower in the lapel, I reach up and remove a black bowler hat. I become slightly self-conscious knowing that this is no longer acceptable clothing.