The Painted Sky--Nicole

A free spirit she was. Being told the elaborate adventures my mother had went on. I asked to
hear the same stories over and over as a coping mechanism. Those stories were the only thing
I had left of her. As a child my father would tuck me into bed and would tell me about how he
and my mother had seen what he called the painted sky. My eyes would soon begin to droop
until I had fallen into a deep sleep. A freezing cold gust of air blows the hair out of my face. All I
see is a pitch black scenery, until my eyes begin to make out what looks like trees, many trees
reaching towards the sky. That’s when I saw it, a flash of green. It was as if it was playing a
game of hide and seek, peeping out from the trees soon disappearing back into the darkness. I
begin to look for the dancing green light. It taunts me moving faster and hiding longer. I soon
prevailed when I had reached a clearing finding it in the clear night sky without any trees for it to
hide behind. That was when the light began to dance, spinning and twirling amongst the stars.
Many other lights joined the playful green light. I watched as streaks of green, blue, and yellow
painted the night sky. Until this day that night has stuck with me forever because that was the
night I saw my mother be the free spirit my father had always talked about.