Novel & Cerita Comforting Drawings

My hand shake but only slightly, but I clench them into fists until they became steady. That night, as usual Cole return late. His boots drag against the floorboards, his breath already laced with drink. As he collapses onto the bed, he doesn’t speak to me, he kept his back turned to me. I sit at the table with my sketchbook open, the candle flickering beside me, and draw. Wildflowers. I always draw wildflowers.

What was she about to share? "My concern is for Oliver," Beth said, her voice laced with a hint of worry as she handed me a handful of drawings. I took them from her, my eyes scanning each one with interest. At first, they were happy and vibrant, depicting our little family and his friends in joyful scenes. But as I delved deeper into the stack, the images shifted, and my heart began to sink. The last few drawings were disturbing.

I was just about to call after her - to tell her that we weren't done talking when she returned, clutching a stack of papers between her fingers. She crossed the room to where I was standing and held it out to me. "I wouldn't be so sure about that." I took the papers and began flipping through them - fast at first, but slower and slower when I realized what I was looking at. Drawings that Tate did. Various drawings of himself playing with other pups, drawings of the two of us with the rest of the pack, drawings of the two of us as a family with a faceless father figure, and finally, a drawing of a pack with a lone pup standing off to the side with drooped ears and a hanging tail.

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.

My chest feels too tight but I force myself to keep breathing normally, keep my voice steady. “That sounds really hard,” I say quietly. “You were pretty young when all that happened.” He nods, still not looking at me. I reach across and gently touch the edge of the sketchbook, not closing it, just letting him know I’m here. “Sometimes when scary things happen, our brains hold onto them,” I tell him. “Even when we don’t want them to. And sometimes drawing them out can help us understand them better.” “Does it make them go away?”

He pulled out a small bundle of trinkets—buttons, beads, a broken bracelet—and several crumpled papers. "Bingo," he murmured. Bella gasped. "Her stash. She hides things all the time at our place too." We all sat down right there on the floor, spreading out the drawings. Childish sketches. A house. A crying face. A stick-figure family. A swing set. Then my fingers froze. "Here," I said. "Look at this." We all leaned in. It was a grey, smudged drawing of an oval with a cross on top.

Today is a Christmas party in her school and also her school vacation starts from today. “Mammy, I have made this,” She said, giving me her drawing card. “Why this card,” I asked. “Maestro asked us to make a family diagram and the best drawing will take place on a Christmas tree,” She said happily, showing the picture. I opened the card and saw her amazing painting. She has different levels of craze for painting. She has drawn me in the center beside a shadow, and I know what it means. She draws herself to the right side of the shadow, interlocking fingers with him and another side, Jonathan sitting in a wheelchair.

I asked surprised "Yeah, dancing is just my hobby".he chuckled softly "Wow". I exclaim, surprised he smiled and looked away. "Can you show me your drawings". I asked, "That won't be a problem, but I have only pictures of myself and some friends I drew years back " "That isn't a problem". I spoke up. he smiled at me before leaving the sitting room. I hissed in relief the moment he left. I realized he wasn't that hard to make a conversation with.Few minutes he came back with some papers in his hands .he smiled and handed the book to me.

Her belly button was tucked inside the muscle and that's where the drawing stopped. May scrunched her nose. This drawing reminds her of someone. Someone she doesn't want to be reminded of, Bella. Her eyes shifted to the next drawing which she found to be the worst. A woman and man having sex. No, it looked like she was being raped cause her hands were tied. May's stomach churned. She felt uncomfortable. Why does he have such obscenities drawn in his room? The third and fourth drawings she loved, however. She thought the artist had done a wonderful job drawing a rose that looked like it was dying with its leaves dropping to the floor.

I've waisted hours and hours making sure it looks exactly like him, now it's come back to bite me in the ass. In that drawer there are over ten drawings. My favorite ones. Over the years I've burned most of the drawings but those are special. They are the best... and the sickest ones. I didn't want to bring them with me in case someone might see them, but it was worse. "Oh, shit," I repeat again, because I don't know what else to say. Kingsley is going to do something to fuck me over because of them and of that I'm sure. I swallow and pick up my phone with my shaky hands. There are three missed videocalls from him and suddenly another one comes in. I answer. King's face is in a scowl now.