A Night Gaurd's daily stroll | Teen Ink

A Night Gaurd's daily stroll

May 10, 2024
By yagirljessie SILVER, Missouri City, Texas
yagirljessie SILVER, Missouri City, Texas
9 articles 12 photos 3 comments

Favorite Quote:
' Everyone keeps telling me how my story ends. Nah Imma do my own thing' - Miles Morales.


Sait Beringers' art gallery is just an ordinary gallery, no skeletons in its closet, nothing to hide. At least that is what I would say, to try not sound crazy. At the dead night, when the doors are closed, and the lights are out, and no one is in sight. The paintings, or at least the ones with people in them, come alive, and you know what they do? Well, they sort of just relax and do their own thing.  
Now, as a security guard of this place, it’s my job to make sure none of these paintings are stollen, but that rarely happens a lot, so for the most part, I’m chatting with these paintings up until 4. Usually, I stroll by each painting at a time, give them a little checkup to see how they are doing, have a little chit-chat, perhaps a bit of gossip.  
Every day I always make sure to stop by my favorites. Which includes the pair from Grant’s famous painting, Mona-Lisa, and Madam X. I usually make sure I make extra time for them, just so I can hear about their day, and lending a good ear to them too, and today marks another earful of antics I get to hear, and chuckle to.  
Now Rosetta and Warren. Both are always pleasant to talk to, despite their morbid humor. I always feel like they have the most going on, since the whole gallery would clamor a new event related to them almost every week.  
Today, Rosetta told me about the corvids in her attic. I remember she was cleaning the attic, and then saw a nest of eggs. Of course, being curious, she got close to them, only to be clawed at by mother crow herself. Perhaps she was too close. Anyways she got her dad to go check out the commotion, and with pitchfork in hand, we went up to the attic, and started dueling with the bird.  Pretty sure she described it to be a ‘great battle’, can imagine how that went. Anyways while dueling, Rosetta, not only found another nest in the attic. She found another, and another, and another, until she counted about 20 nests in total. Just when she realized they entered a corvid’s valley.  Warren was already ambushed by the other 19. They clawed, pecked, and swarmed him around to the point where he could not see, all while clawing him and such. Then made him fell through the attic door and collided with the second floor. Literally.  He broke his spine in the process too, nearly freaked his Rosetta to death.  
Poor lass literally must hop to a war painting just so she can find a nurse, and I swear war paintings, are always an active warzone. Thankfully the nurse was able to heal Warren, just in time for the morning. As for the birds they are either transferred or killed somewhere. I don’t know. Regardless, Warren was up just in time, and nothing unusual was spotted by guests.   
They always have more unusual stories to tell, some weirder than the first, but this is just one of them.  Now they are an unusual bunch, but in my first job I found Mona Lisa to be the most unusual. Still do to this day. 
Why? Remember that smile she’s famous for? Well, she hates that smile. Yep, she hates it so much, that I once asked her which emotion would you like to get rid of? Her answer, Happiness. From my 5 years of taking this job, I have never once seen Mona-Lisa smile. Usually I catch her frowning, like somebody had just started telling her a bunch of unfunny jokes. You only catch her smiling when it’s morning, but that ain’t know genuine smile knowing her. She complains a lot too, from rude elders, to screaming kids. She always has something to complain about by the end of the day.  
Today, she was complaining about two teenage protestors. Specifically, those two high school students, who thought it would be a good idea to throw a bunch of tomato basil soup at every painting they come across. When those two kids got the chance to throw soup at her, well let’s say she broke character, and started to yell at these kids for being ‘Unorganized, Unorthodox, possessed by the devil, clinically insane, old, freaks that needed to be cleanse in the eyes of god.’ After about an earful of words, the kids rushed off never to be seen again. Thank the stars, it was just her and the kids. Who knows what would happen if a cop was there too. He might start shootin up the whole place. Then once night settled in, she complained about me for about three hours straight. With more insults aimed at the teens. Quite an earful, but that’s what I suspect of her.  
Then lastly, I stop by Madame X to get the latest gossip from her. She has always got the latest gossip obtained just by observation, whether she’s observing the guests at daytime, or hoping through paintings for friendly talks, when I stop by, she always had the gossip, then me and her would chat about it for a long time.  Today she called me over in a sort of giddy manner.  I rushed over to her side and asked what’s up. Then she told me about one time, she was in one of those garden party paintings. Chatting with the usual rich folk, until one of the ladies from the garden party told her about the host’s husband’s affairs. Now as for affairs, Madame X told me that the husband was spotted, he was hidden in the bushes, and making out with a maiden. Another one of Madame X’s friends contributed to the situation, claiming she saw the man claiming another lady this time in a painting of the Greek nymphs in between the nymphs. After that revelation, another rich folk made her contribution, and another, and another. Most of which shared the same story, that same man making out with a new girl, in almost every week. This made Madame X in a mood for hoping onto portraits to find this man for herself, so once she had her wine, Madame X hopped onto the next painting, and started her search for that man.  
From one painting to the next, Madame X had tried searching for the darn man. With no luck at first, eventually she got what she wanted when she landed herself at, the garden of earthly delights painting. Of course, she had to go through the many animals, people, and weird colorful architecture the picture had to offer, granted it’s easier said than done. She managed to find the man she was looking for with a different maiden, behind a large strawberry going all out with each other, this time looking like the residents of the people from the painting. It was a sight for Madame X to behold that she had to cover her mouth, just to hide her gasp. After seeing that sight, she snuck out of the painting, and hopped back to her original portrait, just so she can tell me about the fiasco.  
Throughout the whole story, I have never fully laughed hard at a story than I did. Even comedy sketches made me chuckle a bit here and there, but this story just kicked me straight in the funny bone, that I nearly lost my breath for a moment. It took me a while to recover. I was mostly coughing, but once I did Madame X kept talking again, and I kept listening to all the things she had heard, from a scandal involving a couple of royals that nearly escalated into a war, to a child that has wandered too far into a war painting just to get his toy car, and come back unscathed. Whatever shenanigan may be Madame X to always tell me about it and be the reason why we would be talking for hours.  
Once I visited my three favorite pit stops, the rest of the night was just me strolling, and having small talks with the other paintings.  Until 6 when I had to pack up and hit the hay. The gallery then reverts to its quite state, and everyone stays still for 12 hours, until the gallery closes, and rinse and repeat.  
Throughout the 5 months I have been at this place, it seems like I am stepping into a secret society almost every day, being a bystander to all the chaos and whimsy around it. Every day I get to see friends waving at me, hear their stories, get to know a person, have the option to hear their opinions, laugh, joke, gasp, and gossip. Now talking to a mere painting is something I don’t usually come across through my long years of living, but if this job allows me to chat with wonderful people, then I wouldn’t change it for the whole darn world.  


The author's comments:

I thought I start implementing writing prompts more in my work, so that I can practice on my writing skills. So shout out to Readsly for the prompt, and making me write this short story about a art pieces, truly legendary. 


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