by Ione Citrin

Artwork Description

Ayesha

0.0 x 0.0

28" x 24" pastel on paper "Why did she have to paint her face that way? Why does she have to look like that? Why can't she be normal like all the other girls?" Her mother thought as she packed Misty's clothes for the rehab center stay. "What did I do wrong? I gave her everything I didn't have." Tears started to flow down her cheeks. Misty's mother had almost given up. Her only daughter was uncontrollable and now for the fourth time was going to get clean at another rehabilitation center. This center guaranteed her that they could get her off crack and keep her clean, but it would take a lot of work and a long time. Mary didn't care what it cost or how long it took. She was a devoted mother and ready to do anything to help her addicted daughter find herself and get a life. "Almost ready, dear?" Mary called out. When she heard no answer she walked to her daughter's bedroom, slowly opened the door and peeked in. "Misty, it's time to go." Silence. Then she noticed the bedroom window open and realized Misty had jumped out the window and run away. Mary lay down on her daughter's bed. She held Misty"s nightgown to her chest and cried soft miserable tears, knowing all her efforts and love were not enough to solve her daughter's problems. "Where did I go wrong?" she thought. "I gave her everything". Mary lay there for hours slowly accepting the reality that she could not save her daughter's life herself. Her daughter had to take the first step, and she obviously wasn't doing it. The acceptance of this fact was a bitter pill to swallow. Mary slowly got up and left Misty's bedroom closing the door softly behind her. She knew she would hear from Misty again in some horrible situation that she would have to rescue her from. It was inevitable. There was nothing more at this point she could do.

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