Crying Eye Drawing Novels & Stories

So, who could it be? Her breath hitched. It was a drawing. Crayon lines, childish and uneven, but unmistakable. Four stick figures holding hands: two adults and two kids. The colors are bright. She pressed a hand over her mouth. Tears burned her eyes as the world tilted for a second. She rushed out of the nursery, her heart pounding, and grabbed her phone from her handbag on the dining table. Her fingers shook as she scrolled through her contacts. When she finally pressed Eddie’s name, her throat tightened.

A piece of paper fluttered out. It was a drawing. Crayons on construction paper. Catherine picked it up, and her blood ran cold. The drawing showed two stick figures standing on a jagged white line (the ice). One was labelled "Daddy," drawn in blue. The other was labelled "Sad Man," drawn in red. They were fighting. But above them, the sky was ripped open. A black hole was drawn in the clouds. And coming out of the hole wasn't light. It was a tentacle. A massive, black, spiraling limb covered in eyes.

I can feel my tears rolling down my cheeks. I don’t like this. Stop it, please. "I'm not crazy! Stop this, please! No, I'm not crazy! Just please, stop!" "Hey! Stop that! Heavenly, listen to me!" The stranger successfully reached me and he held both of my hands before he forced me to look at him. There, I saw his peculiar eyes again. Like it’s calling me... I can see a whole new world inside those pair of eyes. "Hey, calm down. Please."

I couldn't hold back my tears and looked at the guy in front of me and I could see his worried eyes again like what I’ve seen earlier. “What’s wrong?!” He said. “Why is she crying?! Is it because of me not giving the drawing that I made because I think that she’s beautiful?” His thoughts said. Wait-- He drew me?! “Please don’t cry, here I’ll give it to you. It’s for you anyway. I’m just hesitating because it isn't finished yet but more than that-- I just don’t wanna see you cry. So, here take it” he said, then smiled at me. He gave me the paper and I saw a beautiful picture.

“Guess what we made in school!” I lift her off the ground, laughing despite the hollow ache inside me. “What did you make, kid?” She waves a crumpled piece of paper at me, her grin bright, her eyes sparkling. “A picture of you and me and Lala! Isn’t it perfect?” I force a chuckle, glancing at the drawing, letting it soften me for a moment. I can feel the tears threatening behind my eyes, but I hide them, swallow them down. I can’t let her see. Not yet.

Within a flash, he returned to holding me by both of my shoulders, and my heart skipped a beat, terrifyingly. "Are you so stupid as to realize when you're not wanted?" He said, staring into my eyes, furious, and his eyes started to glow in his wolf form. "Yes," I say with more tears pouring down my cheeks. His eyes widened and returned to their usual blackness, shocked at my response. "I live with a mother who doesn't love me or want me, and the one person who made me feel wanted and loved, I don't want to forget that feeling if it didn't matter to him," I smiled through my tears.

I start to cry "oh no, my princess is crying". He carries me in his arm "There there, I didn't mean to scare you, you're a pretty smart kid you know, what you said gave me goosebumps" "I don't want a mother anymore, especially a stepmother". He cleans my tears with his hands "I won't okay, I promise, it will just be me and you". I sob" okay daddy". I draw my nose Stella and Luther come running "There you are young later". Luther said panting

"Hey, my love. What happened?" "Nothing." A hiccup. "I'm not crying." "Okay. You're not crying." I rubbed slow circles on her back. "But if you were, what would it be about?" She was quiet for a while, gathering herself the way she'd seen grown-ups do, and then it came out in a rush, muffled against my shirt. "I made you a drawing," she said. "A really good one. It was you and me and Luna and the sun and a dog even though we don't have a dog but I put one in anyway. And I was going to give it to you. And Elara saw it."

My drawings. My breathing became uneven, and I pressed my lips together, biting down hard because I didn't want him to see me cry. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I tried swallowing the lump forming in my throat, but it only seemed to grow larger. One tear escaped anyway, sliding slowly down my cheek, followed by another, and then another. I looked down at the torn pages around me. Every drawing I had carefully created was now lying beneath my feet, ripped apart because of him.

I walked closer to him and answered, “Well, I can’t sleep while wondering if you fix that or not.” When I stood next to him, I saw the crumple drawing on the table. No matter how Eric used his palm to straighten the crumple, the result remained the same. But instead of complaining, I only scrutinized my son’s drawing. In the drawing, there is a tall man with blue eyes and angry brows. On the other side, a woman with black hair, red lips and peach dress is standing. In the middle, a cute kid with blue eyes is smiling. He is only holding the hand of the woman.