Novel & Cerita Goofy Ahh Drawings

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.

I didn't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I snatched a piece of paper and a pencil from my bag. I didn't listen to a word about the French Revolution. I just started drawing. I drew Ace’s face. I did my best to make sure his eyes look as cold as they really were. Then, I started writing around it. *Die.* *Go to hell.* *I hate you.* The cursives were messy and sharp, filling the space around his head. It felt good to press the pencil into the paper until it almost tore. It was the only way I could actually scream without making a sound.

His nose had a green stripe, his left cheek was slashed with red like war paint, and across his forehead, in all caps, someone had written: BOOM. “Fascinating,” I muttered. “Proof that a handsome man can lose every ounce of dignity with one box of Crayolas and a confident kid.” Ash sat in his lap, laughing like he’d conquered the art world. “You want one too, mami? We can draw hearts on your face!” I ran a hand through his hair and kissed his head. “mami already spent the day drawing new futures in divorce paperwork, sweetheart. That’s enough art for today.” Zane tilted his head, eyes scanning me slowly. “You look tired.”

God. Everything was fine. Fair. Until the last page. Reasonable honestly. Then she froze. God. Because there was a drawing. Fair. A brand new drawing. Reasonable. Not hers. God. Definitely not hers. Fair. Just scribbles. Reasonable honestly. Lots of scribbles. God. Then one tiny stick figure. Fair. Then another tiny stick figure. Reasonable. Then a tiny circle. God. Everyone stared. Fair. Then Peanut pointed proudly.

In⁠stead‍ everything a⁠round Liam became complicate‍d and emotional Noah suddenly ran⁠ into t⁠he office holding p⁠apers‍ excitedly. ‍“Look!” Av‌a b‍linked at the drawing he‍ shoved toward them. Three badly drawn stic‍k f⁠igures stood together holding hands. One had⁠ brown hair. One had black h⁠air‍. One smaller‌ figu⁠r‌e stood betwe⁠en t‍hem s‍mil‍ing. At t‌he top, writ‌ten in childish handwriting, we⁠re fou‍r words.

“Glitter only for the back pages. So it doesn’t disturb the serious work.” I watch the watercolor in her hand, tiny splatters already landing on the carpet. My serious work quietly cries in a corner, but honestly, today I don’t care. “Mommy, look.” She draws a small circle in the corner of the page, then adds two dots and a smile. “This is my gang. Table center. Happy.” There are four tiny heads there. One with long hair in a ponytail, green eyes. Above it: ME. I smile faintly. “You look very proud.”

The constant little smile on his face gave him away. I walked to a little girl, sitting on her chair at the back, busy drawing and colouring. I looked down at what she was drawing. She drew a stick person with three strands of hair and coloured it with blue paint. "Is this me?" I jokingly asked her. Anyway, I would not be surprised if she drew me. They do that a lot. "It is not. It is the Alpha." She stated without looking at me. I placed my hand on my mouth to stop the laugh that was about to burst forth. I turned to Aaron to see him looking at our direction in curiosity.

She smirked, "You make an adorable pussy...cat." I grinned. Yep. Her answer was what I thought. We looked over to find Ever with a clown face. Hycinth giggled. Asher turned to me and muttered, "It's a dick, isn't it? She drew a dick. I just know it is." Hycinth placed a hand over her open mouth, not quite able to contain her amusement. I didn't even bother trying, and just burst out laughing, "Yep...it's exactly a dick. And quite realistic too. She even added little curly pube hair."

Around them, there was a mix of snickering, sighs, and exaggerated groans as everyone struggled to resist glancing down. Finally, the facilitator clapped once. “Time’s up! You may now share your masterpieces.” Katherine burst into laughter as she saw Kingsley’s attempt—his drawing looked more like a startled alien than a woman. “What is this?!” Kingsley blinked down at it. “This is my abstract interpretation of your beauty.” “Oh, it’s abstract, all right.” Katherine’s drawing of Kingsley wasn’t much better. His jaw was somewhere near his eyebrow, and one of his eyes was drawn twice.

“ Do you mean like a picture?” “ No, mail it to me from the post office right now,” he said sarcastically. “ Whatever,” I said, rolling my eyes even though he could not see me. I flipped through my drawing pad searching for anything worth sharing. I settled for the drawing of a wolf that I had drawn and colored. It was of a white wolf and a dark-furred wolf in the forest. I took a picture of it and sent it to him. “ uh, did you get it?” “ wow…” he trailed off, and I could hear him trying to hold back his laughter