Painting! (and a little bit of a story)

So this is a fandom painting that I just finished, and it has quite an interesting story. :)
This painting is based off a painting done by a character in a book that my friend and I are writing. The character's name is Brenna, and this is the story of her painting! (Keep in mind that this is the first draft of this scene that you are reading, so if at any point, I post the full book, don't be suprised if I have changed this part drastically.)

I glance at my walls, holding the sharpie firmly in my hand. My parents had suggested that I get rid of some of my older paintings to make room for some new ones, so today was the day. The day I say goodbye to paintings that I was once proud of, but now, have little to no meaning to me. Since I was throwing the canvases away anyway, I was going to draw a sharpie X on the ones I was going to give up, to serve as a metaphor that the painting was gone... that it was no longer important to me. I let out a deep sigh, feeling like I was about to murder my own children.
"Here we go." I whisper to myself as I draw an X on the first canvas. I draw X's on about 10 canvases before my phone rings. It was Kayla. I set the sharpie down on my desk-which was wooden and covered in paint splatters- and answer the phone.
"Hey, Kayla. What's up?" I greet with a sigh.
"Not much. I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place to hang out for a bit?" She asked, almost begging. I laugh gently, sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Can't you just hang out with Chris? He lives just down the street from you, ya know." I remind her.
"Yeah, I know, but Jordan's over at his place, and... well I'd kind of be an awkward third wheel." She says, sounding annoyed. "Plus we haven't hung out since school got out! I miss you! Can you PLEASE come over?" She adds.
"Ummm..." I say, bouncing up to look at my calendar, which was blank for the rest of the week, including today.
"Yeah, sure! Be there in a few." I say.
"Kay!" She responds cheerfully, hanging up the phone.
"Mom! Dad! I'm going out! Will you take over painting duty for me?" I yell, grabbing some stuff to take over, shoving it in a bag.
I hear something like a "yeah sure!" mixed with an "Okay, have fun!" And run down the stairs.
"Can I take the mini-van, mom?" I yell. I pause to wait for her response.
"Yeah!" She yells back.
"Thanks! Don't get rid of any paintings in the corner! I piled up my favorites!" I say, again waiting for a response. I heard a remark that I couldn't quite decipher, so I just turned out the door, and drive to Kayla's.

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(Later when Brenna gets home)

I walk through the front door quietly, trying not to wake any one as I make my way to my room. When I enter my bedroom, I'm greeted by stacks of canvases piled up with X's on them, leaving only about 7 on my walls, and probably more scattered through out the house... there were a LOT of paintings. I grin at the stack, feeling relived to not have to destroy paintings myself. Though I was curious which of my paintings my parents had chosen to throw away.... I start to rummage through the stacks.
"Bowl of fruit, sunset, flower..." I mummer to myself, as I look at each painting. My eyes lock on one painting. I feel tears building up and choking my throat as I hold the canvas firmly in my hand. I shake my head, silent and shaky tears dreading on my face.
"No." I cry dully. "No!"  My parents had drawn- in sharpie- a thick black X over the top of my pride and joy, the absolute best painting I had ever done. My fandom painting was ruined. I felt my heart grow heavy in my chest. I didn't care about any of the other paintings in the stack at this point. I curled my knees into my chest, rocking back and forth.
"Why would they do this to me?" I cry a bit louder, feeling like my insides had been twisted into a knot. I sobbed. For hours. Getting progressively louder and louder as the reality of the situation set in. My parents, looking like they had just rolled out of bed, came barging into my room.
"Brenna Renee Allen! What's going on?" My dad yells, staring at me as I rocked back and forth on the ground. I looked up at my retched parents slowly, shaking my head in disgust.
"You.... you knew... I LOVED that painting. Both of you knew!" I yell, aggressively pointing at the canvas that they had ruined.
"Brenna..." My mom starts, trying to comfort me. I pull away swiftly from her as she tries to put her hand on my shoulder.
"Don't touch me!!!" I yell. "Why did you do it?" I add. "You knew I loved that painting.... so why did you draw an X on the ONLY PAINTING THAT I ACTUALLY GAVE A CRAP ABOUT!?!?"  I yell.
"Your...'fandoms' are not what you should be focusing your talents on, and you know it! It's a waste, Brenna! An absolute waste! It wasn't even that good anyway!" My father said, striking a nerve in me, causing me to explode. I stood to my feet.
"Don't you get it?!?! YOU FREAKING IDIOT, DON'T YOU GET IT!??!? This painting meant more to me than any of the crap you and mom and the school art program ever made me draw, because for once, art actually expressed who I am! DON'T YOU DARE TELL ME THAT WHEN I DRAW WHO I AM...THAT IT'S NOT EVEN THAT GOOD!"
"This is not who you are, Brenna!" My mom yelled. "This is who Kayla has made you to be! If you had never met that girl, we wouldn't be having this issue right now! TV shows, books, movies, none of that is important! College, life, jobs, using your talent for good... that's what matters!"
"Don't you dare." I say, shaking my head. "DON'T YOU DARE SAY THAT! MY FANDOMS HAVE TAUGHT ME MORE ABOUT LOVE, ABOUT FAMILY, AND ABOUT LIFE THAN EITHER OF YOU EVER COULD! DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT BLAMING KAYLA FOR RUINING ME! THIS IS WHO I AM! ....and if you won't let me express that... I'm giving up art." I say, taking in a sharp breath.
"She's bluffing." My father says. I raise an eyebrow.
"Am I?" A say, grabbing my easel, and tons of unfinished painting ideas drawn out on paper, running out to the back yard.
"Brenna?!?!?" My parents call after me as I run down the stairs and outside. I stand by the edge of the pool, holding my paint supplies in my arms.
"BRENNA NO! DON'T DO IT!" My mom yells out.
"Brenna, don't do this!" My dad adds. I feel tears trembling down my cheeks as I chuck the easel and the paintings into the pool, symbolizing the end of my art career.