The Legend of the Indian Paintbrush (A Story from The Childhood)

This is the first in a series of three stories written by a child who knows the abuse of parents and the spark of writing. A normal-sounding 9-year old kid isn’t always what they seem, but during these stories as with school I was my normal, eager scholar self … (who is, by the way, a Texan accustomed to red Indian Paintbrush and Bluebonnet flowers :0) )

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In the begining there was no color. Everything was black and white. All the trees andb & W flowers were black and white, all the animals and people were black and white.

 

Except there was one man who was very greedy who had many beautyful colors. He had reds, blues, yellows, oranges, purples, pinks, greens, and many other colors.

All the animals in the forest knew about this man. They all so much wanted to have color in the world.

So they thought of a plan to get to the colors and have color in the world.

The plan they had thought out was when the man was asleep a few of them named fox, rabbit, cub, and snake would bring all the color out of the house they could.

colorThe plan worked and on the way out they brought some paintbrushes. They were all so glad they started to paint the forest. They painted the grass and flowers green and red for the tops of the flowers to make roses. They painted trees green and brown and every where they went they spilt paint. When they got through they buried the paintbrushes all over. They took the pain cans back to the mans house seeled tight.

The man woke up the next morning and looked around. There all over the place he had found Indian Paintbrushes all grown up into flowers for they were indian kinds of paintbrushes.

He got so mad that he died with so much anger.

writing

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