March Graphic Novels & Stories

“Okay. But you’re making me T-shirts. I want one that says Save Marigold Grove or We Riot.” I cracked a smile, the idea of creating something fun lighting a spark of hope within me. “Deal.” I returned to my laptop, pulling up Canva to adjust the spacing on the logo I’d sketched—a whimsical design of paw prints shaped like leaves encircling a solitary tree. In my mind, I envisioned asking Alan if he and Rufio would join me for the walk. I wondered if I could phrase it so it wouldn’t come off as too much or too little.

It was after that event that the Paparazzi seemed glued to us. I was happy that the designs for the building were nearly complete. I had a 3D model rendered so that we could have a more realistic idea of what the building would look like. I was currently working on the tech specs. I was working with a tech artist from China. They had a cool computer program that allowed us to view my design in hologram form. By doing so, we would more intricately be able to examine each floor of the building. The specific company I was working with also provided different renderings as well. We could see the technical side of things, the building side of things, as well as what we believed the final concept

I tore it off the wall and hurried back down the aisle. I reached out and held the flyer before Caleb. He looked at it, then did a double take. His jaw dropped open as he held it up. It was an advertisement to come see Martha’s Vineyard. And it listed the Vincent House.

Lillianna cried out unable to help herself. He just imprinted his initials onto her body… He pressed it so hard holding her arm hard so she could not go anywhere. He kept it pressed for a few minutes before he pulled it off her. She was in tears. AJ assessed the result before he turned her around roughly and showed the mark to Tristan. “What does that say?” He asked. “It says AJ… AJ… She is now marked. I have branded her as my own. Is that enough for you to understand that she belongs to me!”

” there are with texture, super thin, retardants, flavors, colors. “Anyway, there are a lot.” Paul completed amused to see my dismay.” but I think Kristos is right, we have to try the product and tomorrow we’ll provide information on the performance of the I love you to the advertisers.” and with that he took a package of six units from the table.” look how lucky I am, this is a mixed box.” he said winking at me before leaving the room. “You should also have a few, Mark, at least to know the difference between one and the other, see you tomorrow.” Kevin took a few too and left.

After my short introduction as always, the teacher begin to tell us the basis of water color, I already know what she was telling them so instead of listening, I took my water color and brush and begin to draw what has always been on my mind since I saw it , the crown at the gallery in the pack house. "What is this you have drawn". I jolt in shock squeezing up the drawing and hidding it behind me. I looked at the teacher standing behind me still looking at where my drawing was previously sitting. She looked at me in confusion, before moving to the next student. I throw the drawing into my bag, finally concentrating on what the teacher is saying. Dora led me to the gym before she left for h

Jace says it’s been quiet, but quiet never lasts long in rogue territory. I like the rhythm of it. Scanning trees for broken branches, sniffing for foreign scents, marking our own posts with quick scratches. It’s simple. Physical. No room for overthinking. Until there is. Jace stops abruptly near a cluster of pines. He crouches, fingers brushing the bark. “Fresh,” he mutters. I move closer. There it is: a deliberate claw mark, three parallel lines, shallow but precise. Not deep enough to scar the tree forever, just enough to say *we were here*.

“Gosh, this was a new shirt!” “Don’t you have a washing machine?” I asked between laughs. “Babe, the expensive stuff doesn’t matter. All I want is you,” he said and pouted. I laughed again. I was really having fun with Jarred and the Stone Pack. Yes, you heard me, the Stone Pack. Jarred, Abigail, Charles, Dustin, and Alex made it up. I guess this school runs in packs, not ‘groups’ or ‘cliques’. I asked Jarred why they called themselves ‘a pack’, but he laughed at me like I was crazy.