Adeline sat up abruptly in her bed, gasping. Remembering where she actually was, she let out a sigh of relief and ran a hand over her face. She realized she was covered in sweat and looked at her hand before starting to get up from the bed.
According to the clock on the wall, it was only about 2 in the morning. She rubbed her forehead, making a slight noise as she kind of hated waking up in the middle of the night. She made her way toward her kitchen on the first floor, trying to be quiet. Mera hadn’t started staying in the dorms yet, still a bit overwhelmed and feeling out of place. She didn’t want to wake her just because she had a nightmare.
She was fine most nights, the incident had been long enough ago that she didn’t find herself looking over her shoulder anymore whenever she went out into the woods to gather supplies. But sometimes it just came out of nowhere and she’d reexperience that panic and fear all over. She always woke up in a sweat with her heart racing. She wouldn't be able to close her eyes again for a while without that fear taking back over, so awake she was...
As she reached the kitchen, she realized the light was already on. Her brows furrowed and she walked in and sighed softly. Mera was already there, sitting at the bay window, staring out at Hogsmeade.
“Couldn’t sleep?” Adeline asked softly.
Mera looked over at her, a little startled that she hadn’t realized she’d entered the room, but then calmed down seeing it was her. Mera had come to trust that Adeline was harmless, perhaps protective, so seeing her here made her feel a little more at ease.
“No,” Mera answered honestly, “My mind is quite….uneasy,” she murmured, leaning back against the glass.
Adeline nodded, “Understandable. I was going to make some tea, do you want some?” she asked her, “Maybe some chamomile will do us both some good, hm?” she smiled softly.
Mera nodded, then watched her as she started to get the water, “Did you have a nightmare?” she asked, noting her state.
“Ah, yes,” Adeline admitted, giving a small sheepish smile, “But I’m alright. Just a dream after all.”
Mera regarded her quietly, seeming to stew on those words, “Our minds can be our greatest enemies if we’re not careful,” she said and Adeline glanced at her but continued to get the stove started to get the water boiling, “Even dreams and nightmares can start to make our lives a real hell-scape,” she looked back out the window.
Adeline took a deep breath, “Yes…. Yes, I suppose that’s true,” she murmured. She knew what the reports said about what happened to Mera’s family. There were no words that could soothe the wounds that were likely left by that, but… "Mera, have you ever tried painting?” she asked her.
Mera’s brow furrowed and she shook her head, looking back over at her.
“I always find it therapeutic on nights like tonight,” Adeline said, giving another soft smile, “As if I can put the darkness in my mind onto the canvas and get it out of me,” she said, “The paintings don’t even usually look that great, but that’s not the point,” She explained, “The point is…. Freedom. Expressing all the things that are pent up and letting the feelings out,” she looked at her as Mera considered it, “Do you want to try?”
Mera looked down momentarily at her hands before looking back up at Adeline, “Yes.”
After the tea finished brewing, Adeline fixed their cups, then led Mera into her private studio. There, Mera stopped for a moment as the lights filled the room. It was a large space with canvases of various sizes, paint everywhere, parchments and inks creating sketches and designs that hadn’t yet been put to canvas. Adeline led Mera over to a corner and pulled off a tarp that was covering canvases that made Mera’s brows shoot up.
Most everything Adeline painted and presented was bright colors, beautiful landscapes, and just happiness conveyed through paint… but these canvases were covered in dark colors… blacks, ink blue, and deep reds…. But in contrast to what Adeline had said, Mera found these canvases with their abstract designs, the expressions of Adeline’s darker moments that she kept hidden away were, “Beautiful.”
Adeline gave a little laugh, sipping at her tea, “I do suppose they say that’s in the eye of the beholder isn’t it?” she said, “But you see there’s no planning in these. I pick the paints that represent what I’m feeling and I just…. Paint,” she said, smiling over at her, “So. Grab yourself a canvas. Maybe we’ll both sleep better after this,” she said encouragingly before picking up a blank one herself and walking over to an easel.
Therapy in Expression
- Adeline Green
- Shop Owner

- Player: Nova
Therapy in Expression
Embrace the colors of life and let your spirit soar with creativity.
- Adeline Green
- Shop Owner

- Player: Nova
Addie found herself in that studio again, months later, after Mera was no longer in her care, and all that was around her when she woke up in the dead of the night, feeling like she could crawl out of her skin from the nightmares, was silence. She was practically panting as she walked into the studio, grabbed a canvas, and dropped it to the floor. Tonight was not an easel kind of night.
She grabbed big buckets of black and red paint and dropped them unceremoniously next to the canvas. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were disheveled, but the look in her eyes was wild, as if she were still struggling to come back to the moment. Hot... why did she feel so hot? No, it wasn't the muggy rainforest, she was sweating, she'd had a nightmare, she was still...
She dropped to her knees, putting her hands directly into the now open cans of paint, and put them to the canvas. It wasn't a sensical kind of painting; there was no thought in it beyond needing to get the feelings out. Smearing, clawing, swiping... it was messy. It got on the floor around the canvas and on her, especially when she ran her hand over her hair, pushing it back from her face. Inadvertently, she had slicked it back with the paint, but now her whole head was red and black. She could feel the paint running down the sides of her head, face, and neck, but she didn't stop. Just like they hadn't...
When she finally did come to a stop, panting like she'd run a marathon, arms coated to her elbows in paint, she just sat there, hands still on the canvas. She didn't get up off the floor, just... leaned back, putting the lids back on the paints and just sat there. Like she was too spent now to move. There was a hollow look on her face as she hugged herself, rocking a little. When she finally felt she could move again, she got up slowly, stumbled up to her bathroom, and took a shower, cleaning away the paint before climbing into bed.
She did not dream anymore that night.
She grabbed big buckets of black and red paint and dropped them unceremoniously next to the canvas. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were disheveled, but the look in her eyes was wild, as if she were still struggling to come back to the moment. Hot... why did she feel so hot? No, it wasn't the muggy rainforest, she was sweating, she'd had a nightmare, she was still...
She dropped to her knees, putting her hands directly into the now open cans of paint, and put them to the canvas. It wasn't a sensical kind of painting; there was no thought in it beyond needing to get the feelings out. Smearing, clawing, swiping... it was messy. It got on the floor around the canvas and on her, especially when she ran her hand over her hair, pushing it back from her face. Inadvertently, she had slicked it back with the paint, but now her whole head was red and black. She could feel the paint running down the sides of her head, face, and neck, but she didn't stop. Just like they hadn't...
When she finally did come to a stop, panting like she'd run a marathon, arms coated to her elbows in paint, she just sat there, hands still on the canvas. She didn't get up off the floor, just... leaned back, putting the lids back on the paints and just sat there. Like she was too spent now to move. There was a hollow look on her face as she hugged herself, rocking a little. When she finally felt she could move again, she got up slowly, stumbled up to her bathroom, and took a shower, cleaning away the paint before climbing into bed.
She did not dream anymore that night.
Embrace the colors of life and let your spirit soar with creativity.
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