Lincoln L.

The Art of  ________________

“Shhhliit” the scissors cut through the paper leaving a beautiful slit right in the middle. “If only it were all real,” thought Christine as the imaginary scissors and paper vanished into nothingness. She was really in math class, with piles of perfectly uncut paper surrounding her, but law forbid her to cut them, even a little. To Christine, it was torture.

While most other kids her age played video games, Christine played with scissors and glue. Her friends were the same way. Mark loved to do nothing more than to sketch. Violet was in heaven when she was painting. They were star students in art class, but in everything else, they were misfits. And that’s why they were friends.

As Christine brushed her teeth, got into pajamas, and crawled into bed, she braced herself for what she knew was going to happen. It happened every single night at just about nine o’clock. And it was 8:59 right now.

“Walter, for the last time, build a fireplace.” Christine could hear them through the thin floor.  

“Martha, I’ve told you this a thousand times, fireplaces cost too much.”

“Well guess what costs even more? Using electricity to heat this sorry excuse of a house.

“It’s the only one I could afford-

“I saw a house for less than this dump!”

“But that house looked like the architect designed it with his eyes closed!”

It went on and on. Make a well this... stop using electric lights that... It was actually very interesting. Christine learned something new about taxes and politics every night. But really, it just showed what a desperate situation they were in.

In reading class in school, Christine, as always, was thinking about cutting and gluing. Mr. Tocus was yapping away at the phone about the quickest way to divide 938 and 72 and other stuff that could put you to sleep in ten seconds. There was so much paper. It couldn’t hurt to do just one teeny tiny, itty bitty, lightning fast cut.

The signs of a cutting trance were obvious on Christine. There was a certain look on her face. Her eyes were glowing. She was focusing hard, shutting out the rest of the world. She was happy, even though she wasn’t smiling. But mostly, it was the scissors. The scissors were moving back and forth, creating elaborate patterns. Soon, a beautiful work of art was sitting in the pages of a book. As she marveled her work, she heard a sort of grunting noise. She looked up.

“Young lady,” Mr. Tocus said sternly, “You’re coming with me!”

Christine came back from the principal’s office skipping through the halls, looking happy and content.

“You look like you just came back from Disneyland,” Mark told her, “ Why the Little Miss Happy-feet act?”

“It was better than Disneyland,” Christine said dreamily, “So, I had told Mr. Brown that I was innocent, and-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Mark interrupted, “Why did you say you were innocent?! That’s dangerous business!”

“Well confessing is an act of suicide. Now, with all due respect, LISTEN UP HERE!!!” snapped Christine. “So, as I was saying, he showed me a video taken by some hidden cameras and I saw myself cut in the book and I saw Mr. Tocus standing over me for the last ten minutes of my cutting trance and I saw myself walk out and pass a poster and-”

“Get to the point!” Mark shouted, “What does a poster have to do with it!?”

“The poster has everything to do with it,” said Christine As-A-Matter-Of-Factly. “You see, the poster was a poster for an art contest with a grand prize of ONE MILLION DOLLARS!!!!!!”

“One million dollars,” Mark and Violet said together. “Lets enter it!”

“But wait,” Violet asked, “how did the school get one million dollars?”

“I think Mr. Brown won the lottery.” Christine answered.

“What are we waiting for?” Mark shouted, “Let’s go make our fortunes!!!”

“YEAH!!!!!” it was clear that everyone agreed.

“I think we should cut small shapes in it,” Christine thought out loud. She, Mark, and Violet were sitting in a janitor’s closet, staring down at a blank sheet of paper.

“No, we should sketch a park full of trees,” argued Mark.

“Wrong, wrong, wrong, and wrong again,” Violet said,”in order to make a good picture, we need paint, and a lot of it.”

And then, the biggest argument over art supplies the world has ever seen, took place in that small janitor’s closet in that small school in that small town.

“Scissors, scissors, scissors!” “Paint, paint, paint!” “Pencils, pencils, pencils!” “WAIT!” Christine hollered,”I have an idea…..”

“The winners of the school art contest are,” bellowed the judge, “Christine Pasmire, Mark Siemitic, and Violet Jasidue!!!!” Christine, Mark, and Violet proudly stood next to their masterpiece, Mixed Arts.

It was split into three parts, one with small shapes cut into it, one with trees sketched onto it, and one with a rainbow painted on. But the greatest work of art in the room, were the smiles spread across the faces of three certain artists.

Epilogue: All of the artists became very rich when Mixed Arts went to 19 art shows all around the country. Every one of them learned a lesson, anything is possible and giving up gets you no where. They all lived wealthy, healthy, and most importantly, happy lives.