Draw This In Your Style Novels & Stories

I close my eyes and inhale deeply to calm my mind and body as I stand at the centre of Academy auditorium. Alone. Tessa wanted to accompany me but the risk I have put her in the last time I tried is enough to understand that I better do this alone. Concentrate on your desire, Aurora. I say to myself and visualise myself on the first day of the summer when I was sitting in the garden with my sketchbook and my crayons. Life used to be carefree that time. I picture the white sheet of the notebook and pick a black crayon to start drawing on it. I start to draw an outline of the body shape that will be wearing the dress. I always prefer to make outlines first as the rest just appears to fill in i

“Just Eric in fancy lettering. And maybe a music staff and music notes on either end to bracket it, and tiny, multicolored butterflies above it to make it look feminine.” Butch nodded, obviously picturing what she wanted in his mind. “I’ll draw up a stencil real quick. See if I can capture what you want. Then we can make adjustments before we make it permanent.” Rebekah’s tummy fluttered as if she’d swallowed a few of those feminine little butterflies. “Okay,” she croaked.

“This was from a free-draw session last week. The prompt was ‘My Family at Home.’” I looked down. Katie had drawn our mansion with meticulous detail. There she was, a stick figure with a yellow dress in the center. To her left, a tall stick figure labeled ‘Daddy’ stood at a big box labeled ‘Office.’ Lines came out of the box, like rays. To her right, a smaller stick figure labeled ‘Mommy’ stood at a box labeled ‘Bakery.’ Similar rays. The three figures were connected by dotted lines, not solid ones. In the corner, she’d drawn a small, smiling sun. But between the ‘Office’ and the ‘Bakery,’ she’d drawn a thick, black, scribbled wall.

Sinclair, the visual teacher, approached me. I felt shy at her comment and wondered if she was telling the truth or just being kind to me. I settled for the last thought. She led me towards the picture booth. "I'll do good, Ms. Sinclair," I said after she walked off, right after showing me the picture booth box. She nodded, and I slapped my head, wishing I'd said nothing. I haven't been here for five minutes, and I'm already showing my weirdness. I cursed myself. Shortly, couples were popping up, and the party began. Some came to take pictures. Since the school couldn't afford a better picture booth machine. I had to be the one to collect the cash they had to pay before taking a picture.

“Please tell me you eventually won after taking such steps to be better.” “I didn't.” “You have got to be kidding me. Are you sure they didn't play a fast one on you?” “It was free and fair. It helped me though, I became better.” “Yes you did. Do you have a sketch pad or you draw on your phone?” “I use a sketch pad. They teach you how to make use of sketching apps in fashion school and I really can't afford an apple tab and pen right now.” “Can I see some of your sketches? If that's okay by you.” I add noticing her hesitation.

Zayn pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out on the table. It was a drawing. Simple. Uneven lines. Bright colors. Three figures. Aira recognized it immediately. Zayn pointed at it proudly. “This is me. And that’s Mum. And… that’s you.” Lucien’s gaze fixed on the drawing. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His fingers moved slightly, as if he wanted to touch the paper but stopped himself. “And you made this?” he asked. Zayn nodded. “Yes.” Lucien’s expression didn’t change much.

Priya unfolded it slowly, and laid it on the table. It was, exactly as she’d described, a child’s drawing. Rough lines, the kind only a very young child draws, a square house with a triangle roof, smoke coming from a chimney in careful zigzags, and outside it, standing in a row, six small stick figures, each one slightly different, each one clearly meant to be a specific person even though none of them had faces drawn in. Underneath, in careful, uneven child’s handwriting, the words Priya had quoted.

A circle. Finally closed.

Next came the small inhale, then the cracking voice, and possibly an accusation that I didn’t love her because I was blocking diplomatic relations with my ex-husband. I reached for a pen. “Fine.” Her head snapped up. I wrote in big letters as she spelled it out. THANK YOU RAFA LEMON Gabby studied it, then scribbled something underneath the tree. “What’s that?” I asked. “Me.” The small triangle-shaped figure wore a crown much larger than its body. Al pointed to the empty space on the other side. “Draw me.” “No.” “Why?” “You vomit.” “That was yesterday!” “It stays in story.”

“Understood.” “No. I mean it.” “I will be on your side, no questions, or I sleep on the couch.” “Good!” So I went back to my drawing. So far he had a big love heart with my name in it over his left peck. I had then drawn a really bad version of roses and vines around it to go with the ones on his arm. There were also ‘Don’t mess with Ada’, ‘Ada is queen’, ‘Ada forever’ as well and some daisies… well, my bad version of daisies. I really am not that good at drawing, but I try.