Mr. Smythe's offer on the art class returned for a visit. I do like art. On the other hand, there must be a catch to this. I shouldn't let it stand in the way. So, I gave the offer extra thinking.

At school, I adapt tree climbing. I saw a lot of kids do that. I don't know why. I actually like it. It has a better view than the roof.

Ms. Stanley's oak painting is hanged behind my bed. When I have my chance, I feel the paintbrush's strokes. Sometimes, I just look at it. It keeps me at peace. The tree reminds me of the meadow I drew.

Despite it all, I sensed something strange from Jem. She is hiding something from me. We tell each other a lot of things. Even if it's the darkest, deepest secret of all.