Chapter 1: Sketches in the Attic

Chapter 1: Sketches in the Attic

Intro:

In the cobbled streets of Edinburgh, where ancient stone buildings stood like sentinels of time, lived a boy named Oliver who saw the world not just as it was, but as it could be—with color, light, and imagination.

Story:

Oliver Bennett was not like the other boys in his neighborhood. While they kicked footballs across the grass of Holyrood Park or rode their bikes over Arthur’s Seat, Oliver preferred the dusty old attic of his townhouse on Rose Street. It was there, between stacks of yellowing books and creaky floorboards, that his imagination roamed free.

At age seven, he discovered a box of his grandfather’s painting supplies. The brushes were stiff, and the paint tubes had crusted over, but to Oliver, they were treasure. He found an old sketchbook at the bottom of the box and began drawing stars. Not the ones he saw in the sky, but ones he imagined—turquoise stars, violet comets, swirling galaxies made of golden spirals.

His mother, Emily, was a librarian who had raised Oliver alone after his father left when he was three. She worked long hours but always returned home with a book in hand for Oliver—usually something about space, myths, or famous painters.

One cold December evening, as frost decorated the attic window, Emily climbed up and found Oliver drawing a nebula in pastel. “Do you want to be an artist one day?” she asked gently.

Oliver nodded without looking up. “I want to paint the sky the way it feels, not just how it looks.”

It was then that she truly understood her son’s dream.

At school, Oliver’s talent was clear but not always appreciated. Teachers praised his drawing skills but urged him to focus on science or math. “Art is lovely,” they’d say, “but it’s not a real career.” The other kids didn’t understand him either. “Star boy,” they teased. “Lost in space again?”

But Oliver didn’t mind. At night, after homework, he climbed into the attic with a flashlight, sketchbook, and a world of dreams.

One spring, his mother took him to the Scottish National Gallery. For Oliver, it was a cathedral of wonder. As he stood before a painting of Van Gogh’s Starry Night, he whispered, “He saw it too.”

That night, he began his most ambitious project yet—a giant painting on cardboard, covering the entire attic wall. It showed a boy flying through a galaxy made of paintbrush strokes and swirling constellations. He called it, The Boy Who Painted the Stars.

Outro:

As the wind howled outside and rain tapped gently against the attic windows, Oliver stood before his painting with a heart full of wonder. He didn’t know how or when, but he made a promise to himself: one day, the world would see the stars through his eyes.