The radio's report had only added to the red.
It was afternoon. What the girl saw now on the canvas wasn't too far from what she had seen, when she opened her eyes again 3 hours ago. Was she gonna keep this painting? Of course not. But she needed to get it out somehow.
But hardly had she time to look at finished thing before someone said her name.
Kate turned around and saw her girlfriend Sarah stand at the door with a bag of groceries in her hand. No doubt her intention had been to surprise her with one of her exotic foreign dinners. For a 19 year old who still lived at home, the girl was quite the chef. But looking at Kate's bruised cheek and busted lip clearly made her forget about the original intent.
“What the hell happened?.. Were you at the bank?” She asked.
Kate hesitated but then casually said “Nop. I was mugged by some kind of small smartass gang. All 5 of them. They wanted my wallet... well at first they did. When I punched one of them in the throat, my 50 dollars wasn't all they wanted”.
The expression on Sarah's face, would make one think, she was the one who had been beaten. “You fought them over 50 dollars?”. There was a small tear in her eye as she turned around and left the apartment, but not before leaving the groceries and not before quietly mumbling “God dammit Kate”.
“I'm not afraid of them!” Kate yelled after her.
But she already knew Sarah's feels on the matter: Sarah wanted Kate to be scared of such people; she wanted her to not pick a fight with every asshole who looked at them wrong. But Kate didn't take shit from anyone. She didn't back out, and she didn't give people the satisfaction of seeing fear on her.
Kate hadn't even called the police. They never did anything anyway. From what she had heard, at the bank they seemed to have taken their time getting there. With all their restrictions and tons of paperwork, there was little they even could do. Oh how Kate just hated the fact that whenever someone got hurt, all the police did was do paperwork before even starting! Whatever happened to an eye for an eye? Whatever happened to right and wrong? Whatever happened to having a responsibility to protect the innocent? Why why why was there so many laws that protected the evil, and so few that protected the good?
If Kate was a big strong man and didn't live in the worst neighborhood in the city, people probably wouldn't pick on her all the time. She had only just fully recovered from the stab-wound; yet another monument build on her body because she looked like an easy victim.
No matter how much she enjoyed Art class, she didn't quite feel the new people she had met there understood her. Ewan and Ash might barely notice the bruises on Kate's face when they saw her again. They would be too busy talking about the bank robbery, and maybe with good reason: “The Construction Crew” had pulled off a perfect heist, even though they had done something remarkable odd: They had taken people's wallets. When you rob millions, you rarely think of taking people's wallets. You tell people to remain calm and that you aren't after their money. You tell them to not play the hero. You don't actually take the money they have on them. Not unless you are really twisted... or you have a secondary motive. Which of those things it had been, Kate did not know.
In the shitty apartment she owned, she looked up at her own painting. There was a lot of black, and there was a lot of red.
And now there was the silhouette of a fist in it too...
Kate casually threw her paint-stained clothing on the floor and turned on her old crappy PC in the other room. She felt like expressing her thoughts on The Construction Crew on a very specific site she had begun visiting.