What Do You See?

I stare hard at the painting in the antiques shop. I was looking at an exquisite portrait of a man holding a cane in his left hand. I read the price tab. Surprised, I read it again. 'Excuse me, sir!' I called out to the store manager. He walked toward me. 'Yes, miss Ravens? What is it you would like to purchase?' Said the man. 'Is this painting really selling for only 5.00$?' I asked him. 'Yes, it is.' He said. 'Why?' I asked. He was quiet for a minute. Then he said, 'The painter of that painting demanded that this particular work of art be sold for the cheapest price we could offer before he passed away. I had thought that I should respect his wishes. He lived at an apartment in town in room 333.' Said the man. 'I know. I live there now.' I said. 'Would you like to buy it?' He asked. I thought for a moment. 'Is it authentic?' I asked him. 'See for yourself.' He said. I looked closely at the painting. It did look like a real painting. A well painted one at that. The canvas seemed to be real and not made of some kind of plastic. The texture was that of a standard painting. The brushstrokes were present and indicated that the artist payed close attention to every stroke of the brush. The frame was made of what appeared to be made of polished mahogany wood. There was a very fine line of text at the bottom of the painting. I studied it closely. It read, 'What do you see?'. The painting looked authentic enough. 'I'll take it.'

My name is Isabel Ravens. I'm an art collector. I collect and sell fine artworks to art galleries and museums. God, I should've known the painting was a thing to stay away from.

I moved in to apartment 333. I was curious about the painting that originated from here. I took it out from my car and hung it in the apartment. As I put it up on the wall, my eyes came across the line of text on the bottom of the artwork. 'What do you see?'. I half smiled at the question. I see a picture of a man with a cane. Nothing else. Then, I noticed a change in the painting. The figure was now holding the cane in his right hand. Curious, I studied the painting once more. The same attentiveness toward each brushstroke was unchanged. The only change was the image itself. Had I imagined the cane to be in the figure's left hand while I was in the store? Probably. I disclosed the change as a figment of my imagination. I was soon to find out how wrong I was.

That night,
I was reading a copy of a book called Crescendo, written by Becca Fitzpatrick. I was in my room, about to sleep. Then, I heard a noise. A soft scratching sound on the floor boards. I thought it to be an intruder for a moment. But then again, it could be my dog. I got back to reading. Then, I hear the scratching again. I ignored it. Then, I smelled burning wood. I got out of bed and opened the door. A fire was burning on the floor. 'Fire!' I shouted. I frantically searched for a glass of water. I ran toward the kitchen and  filled a jug with water. I carried the jug toward the fire and poured its contents onto the fire. The fire went out. Then, I saw the burn marks left on the floor. They formed a message. 'STAY OUT OF 333.' It read.

I woke up next morning finding out that I had overslept. I got dressed and hesded towrd the living room when I noticed the painting. 'What do you see?' I asked myself. 'A painting.' I answered my own question. Then I noticed something else about the painting. It changed. It was as if the man was painted to look see through in the painting. That wasn't present before. I shrugged and left the apartment.

When I came back, the painting had changed entirely. The man in the painting was gone.  

*   *   *

I'm still searching for the painting. Obviously, the painting that I discovered previously was planted by a thief. The original must've been stolen. I changed the locks on the apartment. Hopefully the thief will be caught. I was trying to install another lock, but I was having trouble with the drill. 'Need some help with that?' Said a friendly voice from behind me. I spun around. I was surprised by the face that met my eyes.

To be continued...
Next: I See...