Goth Outfit Drawing Novels & Stories

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.

With a swift yank of the metal door, I was able to get an uninvited entrance inside her locker which was just as dark themed as it was outside. Never understood why certain people make certain things into their whole personality , like Charli for instance. She'd taken her goth obsession into a whole new level of absurdity .If there was a scale for all things weird , Charli would most definitely break that scale by alot. More skeletons adorned the inside of her locker, bats too and coffins .Text books covered in black canvas and black ink, a black leather coat hanged on one of the hooks situated inside her locker, a black painted water bottle , black spray paint cans , a poster of Pennywise,

Still driven by his grief, Denny dragged himself to his closet where a collection of his own designs hung lazily waiting to be used, and after thirty minutes of so he had changed outfits for almost fifteen pairs but in the end, he left the house wearing a black skinny ripped jeans, a Madrid peep-toe bootie, and the silky black and white blouse that he designed. A cheeky black choker on his neck was delicately placed for the bonus purpose of covering his Adam's apple that can't be concealed by any make-up. Black was his theme for today influenced by his very own grieving and even if he is sad today

I also put on a light make up and pick the best dress that I have with me. I choose to wear a gothic dress and pair it with tight high boots. My make up is light but I put on cat eye and some dark liner and add a nude lipstick. I choose dark nude to make me look like a bitch with an angelic face. I smirk when I feel the satisfaction with my appearance. I shake my head as I stare at my reflection. "I think I'm a two face bitch." Margaret look nerdy while Chandra can compete when it comes to a cat fights.

This isn't an outline, this is a full-blown drawing. “This is…” “A hobby I picked up, nothing interesting” He waves it off and my heart shreds up a little. I flip the next page and it's another drawing of me lifting a bloodied figurine high up above my head. My lips are pursed harshly and are painted a sharp shade of ruby red. My eyes are a different shade of brown, they look glazed over like I'm in some sort of bloodlust haze. There are specks of blood splattered all over my face and hands.

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.

This boy sketching had been improved. My eyes were probing his designs with an awed look morphing my face. The dress was a long one with a skirt underneath, a long top over which had a cut in the center, starting from the end of the chest and went down. It gave a full view of underneath skirt. But there was something missing in this outfit.

I’m grateful dance has given my thighs strong muscles and my body endurance. The bar is full of goths as usual, of varying degrees of flamboyance. Most of the kids are dressed casually with Gothic touches—black lipstick here, a spiked dog collar there, black clothing everywhere. Many of the girls are wearing corset tops, real ones with stays. All of it is expensive-looking and elegant. Black nail polish is nearly universal. I’ve never seen a town with such a high goth subculture population.

Knowing I had a couple of minute ,I ducked into the ladies room and gave myself a brief once over in the mirror. It was Halloween, and I had fully dressed the part; going with the all out goth appearance I usually reserved for the clubs and my art exhibits. I had straightened my normally curly jet black hair, so that it now hung down to my waist, and besides my deep red lipstick the only make up I was wearing was heavy black eye shadow and eye liner which served to further accentuate my Ivory -or as I liked to think of it at this time of year- ghostly complexion. The dark eye makeup also called attention to one of if not my best feature; my all but transparent crystal blue eyes.

“Hey.” I lifted my face and turned to the source in wonder. In front of me, a female goth—hair pitch black with a section of hair dyed in neon green, a spiky choker around her thin neck, black long coat with chains and transparent section to display her black tank top and jeans, and also, a pair of platform boots—was standing in front of me as she broke into a smile on her black tinted lips. “Can I, be your partner?” Her friendly question is accompanied with a smirk, which probably was her behavior of some sort.