Book 3 -29-

[Protect My Family]

MALIK

I spent most of the morning in my room, sketching images of Ariella. My mother had gotten me some blank sketchbooks the Christmas before she fell sick, which I used to draw my thoughts, my anger, and my sorrows. My pencil flew across the page to bring her form to life. I hadn’t realized what I was drawing, as it was just an abstract shape. It was like I was reliving the memory of her leaving me in the Evergreen forest.

Every sketch I made was of her as if my mind refused to let go. I saw her in everything: in the shape of the leaves rustling in the trees, and the clouds that filled the sky. Even in my dreams beneath my covers, with her long, raven hair blowing across my face, making my heart skip a beat. Nothing worked; from charcoal to pencil, none of my sketches did her justice. I couldn’t even capture the luster of her hair because it was too dark to erase properly. Eventually, all my drawings became nothing more than sketches colored with crayons that m