Amazing Kids! Magazine

White, Just White – Overall Winner, 9-11 Age Group

By Macey Uzzell, Age 11, Dubai, United Arab Emirates

 

Gold Star

Courtney took a deep breath. She was going to do it. Her fingers tightened around the paper she held. In her other hand were paints of every hue. And also paintbrushes. Finally, Courtney laid the paper on the carpet beneath her. The young girl tried not to think about what happened to the other person who had done this.  According to legend, he had gone to the other world and never came out. Courtney closed her eyes and stepped onto the paper. Nothing seemed to happen, no whirling or whooshing around her. Cautiously, she opened her eyes. Around her, everything was white. There wasn’t a floor, or walls, or even gravity! There was only a small black, but still crystal clear, hole which she had come out of.  Excited, Courtney took her paintbrushes and dipped them in paint. She painted everything. There were colors there that weren’t even created.  She decorated everything she possibly could. And when all around her was dripping paint, she dipped her brush and made a door. Courtney opened it and to her delight, there was infinity of whiteness. Again, she kept painting, windows, and doors, cabinets, and dressers. Everything was quite fascinating.  Though everything around her was white, it slowly faded to gray, and then to black. Then Courtney knew it was night, but she was so wound up with the joy of painting, she didn’t even stop to think about her real home.

Courtney painted a whole room, and to her delight, it all became real. The girl slept in her new bed, quite content with the moment.  In the morning, she leapt out of bed, and was ready to paint again.

Courtney painted all afternoon and it wasn’t until after lunch that she got lonely. The young girl didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to go home quite yet, but she wanted someone to keep her company.  She chose her colors and brushes carefully. Courtney worked for hours and finally was done. After she had painted the last stroke, she stood back.  After a few moments, Courtney heard a meow. The gray kitten that she had been painting jumped from its perch and landed on the purple floor with a soft thump.

“Meow?” the kitty said, arching its neck to look at its surroundings.

“It’s okay kitty, you’re with me. You know what? You need a name,” Courtney said, squatting beside the kitten and tapping her chin thoughtfully. “I know! I will call you Rain, since you look like a storm cloud,”  Courtney said, patting Rain’s gray head.

Rain jumped across the room and picked up a paintbrush with his mouth. Courtney watched, confused. But the kitten skillfully turned his head sideways and dipped the brush into some paint. Then Rain started painting a weird shape. Courtney couldn’t even guess what he was making. When Rain was done, he leapt and ate it! Courtney was astounded. She rushed over to be of his aid, but the kitten just put up a paw and said, “No, no, no need for help. I am just fine, thank you.”

“Y-You just t-talked!” Courtney stuttered.

“I know. Isn’t that obvious?”

“But, you’re not supposed to talk.”

“Who told you that?”

Courtney had no answer. Rain asked her how she had some to be here, and she told him her adventure. Afterwards, the kitten shook his head. “You have no idea, do you?”

“What?”

“The hole, the one you came out of, it will close soon.”

“How do you know?”

“Oh, common knowledge,”  Rain insisted.

“How can I stop it?”

“Well, not with any help from me. Retrace your steps. That is all I can offer.”

“But, I painted so many different doors and windows. I can’t retrace my steps.”

“Then, I am sorry to say this, but I don’t know how you can get back.”

“Can’t I just paint another hole?”

“Sure, but it might not be the one that you came through.”

Courtney knelt down, her head in her hands. Finally, she said, “I must at least try.”

“Well, then, I must go. I am sorry I have to desert you, but I am one scaredy cat.”

With that, Rain jumped back into the wall and disappeared. Angry at the cat, and barely able to control herself, she flung pink paint all around the room.  After a long while, Courtney got her paintbrush and started to paint. With careful strokes she painted a  man. When she was done, she waited. The man came out of the wall. He wore a red jacket and white pants. He had brown hair.

“Hello?” Courtney said.

“Greetings, young one.”

“Can you help me?”

“Depends.”

Again, Courtney told her story while the man waited patiently in a brown chair.  When she was done, the girl waited for a minute to see what the man would say. After a minute of hard thinking, the man said, “The answer to your problem is as simple as algebra. To go back to what you call, ‘the real world,’ you need to paint the hole as you saw it. What did it look like?”

“Umm, it was pure black, but still crystal clear.”

“Then make it look like that.”

The man then took a paintbrush and crudely drew a door. It had a circus tent on it and clowns.  He opened the door, but before he walked inside, he turned around and saluted to Courtney. “Off to see the circus.” He said, “Good luck on getting back.”

He walked inside, and shut the door.  Courtney grimly waved goodbye and then sighed. She had been deserted twice already. No one wanted to help her. Courtney rubbed her misty eyes. She tried to calm herself.

“Don’t think about him, don’t think about him,” Courtney desperately tried not to think about the man who did the same as Courtney.

“Why did I do this?” Courtney thought. “I made a horrible mistake. I thought it would be fun, and now look at this! I might never get out…” Now Courtney was horribly scared. If a person never came out, they would never die, for no time ever passed inside the paper. Though she thought hard and made dozens of circles and holes, none of them ever looked exactly like the one she came out of.  After a while, she decided that she needed to paint something else.   So, she painted everything she felt. Courtney painted sorrowful paintings, angry paintings, and helpless paintings. The girl never knew how much the paintings here could show. Here in this world, they could show emotion, and not just from how they look. If you even take just a tiny glance, you are filled with the emotion of which it was painted in. Courtney finally got bored of painting sorrowful things, and painted another door. This one was different from the others. It was blue and splattered with colors that Courtney had just thrown on it. With a sigh, Courtney opened the door and got a big surprise.

This room was very different from the others. It was already painted. There was a little man in it. And he wasn’t a painting! He was a real man! “The man who did this, ” Courtney thought, astounded.

“Why hello, little missy. I’m John Brook. Who are you?”

“I-I’m Courtney,” she managed to stutter.

“Are you lost? Why don’t you go home?”

“I can’t.” Courtney told John her story. In the end, he sadly shook his head.

“I am so sorry you got stuck here, I am too. But, though you might not know, some people come here in dreams, and need help to get out , of course coming here in dreams is much different that coming here when you’re awake.  But I’ve always helped them out.”

“Can you help me?”

“Well, I’ll try.”

So, the two people started making circles and holes, but each time, both would shake their head. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t make it look the same. Finally, Courtney was beat. She started to cry. Her tears fell onto a pure black circle which she had painted. Courtney looked up at the man. He was silently crying too. The young girl looked down. Her sadness left her. The circle which she had painted before was a pure black and still crystal clear! Her tears must’ve made it like that. Courtney jumped up and ran to the man. Not able to talk, she excitingly pointed at the hole. The man’s eyes sparkled with hope. But then his smile faded. It was too small for both of them to fit through. Courtney looked up. The man nodded. Courtney took a deep breath and jumped. She knew that the hole closed behind her even without looking up. The man had stayed behind. At once she opened her eyes. She was back in her own house. There was paper scattered everywhere. But, other than that, everything was the same, no time had changed. She was back.

One comment

  1. Mike McGrath /

    A wondeful story by a great writer with curiosity and heart.
    Have a wonderful life you have earned it by giving happiness to others