Drawing Stuff Novels & Stories

I always lock it before leaving the premises. “But I… Did I…” Brushing it off, I pull the mini door open, and yelp when a heap of papers rains on me as if waiting for me to open it all along. I stay still for a moment, just blinking at the drawings. They’re ugly exaggerated images of me; big head, messy hair, thin legs… I’m as tiny as a doll, while a big guy towers over me, his pants down, and I’m choking on his… What?! My heart drops.

LISA I slammed my bedroom door shut with my foot, dropped my bag on the floor, and let out a sound somewhere between a scream and a dying cat. “Perfect” I rolled. Exactly the vibe of today. I threw myself onto the floor, ripped open my sketchbook, and let my hand move. Hard lines, sharp edges and messy strokes. I drew angrily. Fabrics. Cutouts. Slits that went so high they were practically illegal. Design after design after design…

He nodded, "I draw. I paint whenever I feel like everything is too much. It helps me." "What are you trying to draw at the moment?" He shook his head, "I have no idea, but seeing you beside me suddenly gives me inspiration." "How?" Her eyes widened. He smirked, "Would you give this your husband the opportunity to draw you?" Mia was silent for a while. She barely has any pictures or paintings because her stepmother had deemed them useless. "Are you sure you want to draw me?" He nodded, "I will be glad if do this for me. At least, it will be one happy incident today."