Drawing Stuff Novels & Stories

As long as he left me alone, it meant that the chances of his assault reoccurring were low. Strapping on a top and a long skirt, I made my way into the closet and fished out the box of drawing materials. At least Tom hadn't found this yet. If he destroyed them as well, I would lose my mind for sure. I hugged the box close to my chest, feeling immense relief course through me. If I searched for escape from my reality, this was it. This was my escape. I cleared the desk in the bedroom, laid out my drawing paper and grabbed a drawing pencil. Swiping through my phone for a drawing video online, I tried to get lost in mimicking the artist's steps and trying to draw up what I could.

When I released his hand, he took it, flipped it to the last page, and showed the drawing to me. My lips parted, seeing a pencil sketch of me standing in the gazebo. “This was more like a surprise for me, Aya. I never thought I’d be able to draw again after Scarlett left me,” he smiled, moving to the easel I did not notice when I came earlier. “It’s not finished yet, but -” I walked closer to the canvas, my eyes welling with tears again, eyeing the painting before me. I sniffled; my lips pursed but quivered as I gazed at my image on the canvas. I turned around, dashing toward his direction and embracing Red.

Max asked, his hands busy hugging a large box of new drawing supplies. "What, baby?" I asked, knowing he wouldn't wait for my answer before continuing. "I'm going to draw a tall mountain, a big ship, and a dinosaur that's friends with a robot!" he squealed with delight, his eyes sparkling. "I have lots of drawing paper now, Mommy. Doctor Jacob is so cool. He gave me all this!" I chuckled, shaking my head lightly. "Be careful not to use too much of your paper, Max. You should save some for later."

He opened his backpack, drew out a black, thick sketchpad, and then flipped some pages before presenting it to me. He showed me an etched drawing of a beautiful girl with her long fingers brushed on her hair and as though her charcoal eyes were looking straight at me. “You can draw? Drake, this is amazing!” I gasped. He scratched his hair. “It’s not much. I’m still practicing.” “It looks beautiful to me.” I stared at the drawing. “She looks so real. Who is she?” Probably his crush? Please, let it not be his crush. “No one. Just in my imagination. I haven’t tried realism yet.”

I actually lied about not being able to draw because drawing was one activity that fueled the demons in me. I didn't lie when I said the only thing I drew was nude. For three years, I was chained, abused, and forced to draw dirty, depraved art. Men fucking animals, trees, and children. More often than not, they were still life. I hated drawing. The very art I loved the most.

Beside the paper and pen lay a thin box with a set of graphic pencils. A drawing kit? I opened the pad immediately and began to draw, the dream pouring through me like water down a cliff. It was vivid and fast, my fingers moving on instinct and guided by the memory that wad etched into my mind. The dizzying swirl of numbers, the images in the holographic screens, the massive glowing codes. I drew it as perfectly as I could, adding the faces of my children. After several minutes, I felt no more inspiration coming, so I sat back and stared at the sketch. My fingers had gone sore, my breathing a bit shallow.

Drawing. I've never mentioned it to anyone, because I saw no reason toz but yeah you guys are my favourite guys so Intel you everything. I draw. It's not something I do all the time. It was a talent that I never made use of. I only drew when I was really really bored. Either no one to call or text or something related. But looking at my drawings now and the decision I have made inwardly, I added it to the list of things I'd get done.

"It’s not now, Adrain; I wouldn’t just pick up an ink or pencil and delve into drawing right now. I’m not in the right state of mind.” Adrain walked back to his desk; he pulled the drawer attached to the desk and brought out a little box. He opened it and shoved it to my face. It contained everything needed for drawing. The small drawing box, contained neatly arranged pencils, an eraser, a sharpener, a ruler, and a few coloring tools. “Here, Charlotte, I got everything you will be needing to draw. I invited you here so we can spend time together. I want you to draw while I watch you do it."

All they did in my class was practice adding and subtracting. Mom got a funny look on her face when I told her that I like to draw during math. While the other kids werre counting on their fingers I would pretend to be working in my workbook. Truthfully, I was sketching. I had some cool drawings in that workbook, hidden way in the back. I like to draw weather events, uncontrolled power unleashed on unsuspecting souls. I liked hurricanes and tornadoes the best. I loved the power a storm generated. The inevitable destruction it would cause was fun to try to put on paper. Sometimes I would see a storm raging in my mind and I could barely draw fast enough to get all the details on the page

I picked up a chair from the east corner of the room and a random sketch paper and pen. Drawing or painting had always been my stress relief. I have drawn Violet over twenty times with just an idea image from pictures but I got to draw her laying feet’s away from me.