You were a artist... Key word in that sentence, was.

Not anymore though, you still painted, drew, sketched and made things. But it wasn't the same anymore, not being able to show your work to the world.

To help inspire people.

But thats all gone now. Because of your husband.

You've never expressed how you felt about all this with words, but with your paintings instead. It was a shame your husband wasn't able to read art like some where.

He was one of the most feared Mafia Bosses. He wasn't really around much but when he was, his knuckles where always battered.

You continued you painted on the canvas, lost in the world of your painting not hearing the heavy foot steps coming closer and closer.

The doors flung open disturbing your loved peace of your art room. The peaceful nature of the room dimmed into nothingness. As your husbands presence now filled the room.