Viheart, a talented and determined young artist, nurtured his passion for painting amidst the challenges of a low-income household .His mother, a kindhearted woman , encouraged his creativity, a legacy from his father, a painter who had passed away .
However, he finds solace in painting, the only moment he truly feels happy and connected to his father, a kindred spirit who shared his passion . As he paints , memories of his father's encouraging words flood his mind "beautiful, heavenly paintings , my son . Please make more ." Tears often well up , but his brush strokes remain passionate and driven .
Viheart's eyes snapped open at the sound of his alarm, a chirping melody from his little bird, Kiki. He slipped out of bed, his movements stealthy, his mind racing with caution: don't get caught, or else. His mother was notoriously strict, with four ironclad rules: no leaving the house before breakfast, no departures without notice, no secrets, and no venturing out after dawn. Despite knowing the rules, Viheart chose to defy them. He crept toward the main door, his heart pounding in anticipation. With each step, fear gripped him tighter, but his determination remained unwavering. His body trembled, yet he pressed on, driven by a singular focus: completing his mission. After a brief, torturous struggle with fear, he finally managed to slip out of the house.As Viheart burst into the forest, the canopy overhead swallowed him whole, casting dappled shadows on the forest floor. He sprinted toward the mountain, driven by a burning desire to capture nature's majesty on canvas. Today was his mother's birthday, and he wanted to create something special – a gift that would bring her joy and transport her back to happier times. He recalled the way her eyes would sparkle when she gazed at the waterfall painting his late father had crafted for their wedding anniversary. The memory was bittersweet, reminding him of the fateful night that shattered their lives – the bandit attack that had left their home in ashes.
The raiders' brutal efficiency still haunted him: the shattered windows, the looted belongings, the flames that had engulfed their world. Viheart's heart still ached from the trauma, but he'd managed to salvage a fragment of the waterfall painting, rescuing it from the inferno. This precious piece held immense sentimental value, and he planned to surprise his mother with it, hoping it would bring her solace and happiness.
With renewed determination, Viheart pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the forest. The mountain loomed ahead, its peak shrouded in mist. He felt an overwhelming urge to capture its beauty, to channel his emotions into art. Nothing would deter him – not even his mother's strict rules or the threat of punishment.