Birds chirped softly as the sun began to rise. Chaotic city noises could be heard if you listened closely. Ivy put her head in her hands. She had barely gotten enough sleep. Her arms ached. She had been up all night trying to finish her painting. Mr. Sinclair wanted his painting by the end of the week. It was all ready Thursday and she had barely even touched the canvas. Her head throbbed but she knew she needed to finish, or her art career would be in jeopardy.



She sighed softly, walking over slowly to the canvas. Lines were spread across the material. She picked up her color pallet and paint brush. She thought for a moment. He hadn't requested anything in particular. He just needed a refined painting to put somewhere on the wall. It didn't have to be anything special. She placed the tip of her paint brush in a light gray blob of paint. She shakily drew a curved line and then another. At least it was a start. The throbbing pain in her head intensified. She needed a bath. A bubble bath.



Ivy jogged to the bathroom door and quietly opened it. She stripped of her clothing and started the bath. She looked in the bathroom mirror. She had long black hair, green penetrating eyes and a slightly tan skin tone. She considered herself average looking, which was fine with her. She wasn't interested in romance. Her career came first. Once the bath was filled, she poured in the soap and watched as the bubbles formed. She eased into the warm water. Maybe a walk would clear her head. Just as she was starting to relax, the doorbell rang. She cursed under her breath...