Miraculous Drawings Novels & Stories

He had found a pad of paper and a dull pencil in a kitchen drawer. He was drawing. I stood in the doorway, my breath catching in my throat. I didn't want to disturb him. I watched the way his hand moved—it was fluid, confident, but with that slight, human tremor he had inherited from the resonance. He finished the sketch and turned the paper toward the light. It wasn't a blueprint. It wasn't a map. It was a drawing of a single, wild iris growing out of a crack in a rock. It was messy. The lines were unoptimized. It was, in every sense of the word, imperfect.

He climbed onto the sofa beside her and opened the notebook. Crayon lines filled the page. Bright colors. Simple shapes. But the drawing was recognizable. Three stick figures stood side by side beneath a large sun. Evelyn had seen similar drawings from him before. Usually the same three figures. A woman. A child. And a tall man with darker shading around the eyes. Silas held the notebook proudly. “Do you like it?” Evelyn forced a soft smile. “It’s beautiful.” He studied the picture carefully. Then pointed to the tallest figure.

Zayn pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, smoothing it out on the table. It was a drawing. Simple. Uneven lines. Bright colors. Three figures. Aira recognized it immediately. Zayn pointed at it proudly. “This is me. And that’s Mum. And… that’s you.” Lucien’s gaze fixed on the drawing. For a moment, he didn’t speak. His fingers moved slightly, as if he wanted to touch the paper but stopped himself. “And you made this?” he asked. Zayn nodded. “Yes.” Lucien’s expression didn’t change much.

I couldn't sleep. Desperate for an escape, I grabbed a sheet of heavy art paper and began drawing. My hands shook as I began to draw, letting my raw emotion guide the strokes. Within minutes, James's face began to emerge from the stark white paper. I stared intensely into his eyes through the charcoal lines, feeling a dangerous, intoxicating connection to a ghost.

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.

“What could it be? I ask. Elder Vernor had a book in his hand, he approaches my mother and me. He hand the book to me, it was open, I look at to see there was a color picture of a beautiful woman, who have caramel skin, long black hair she had the prettiest hazel eyes. I could see why she consider a goddess, because of her beauty. “What you see is our Moon goddess, well this is the how people picture her centuries back. But now everybody has their own vision of her, that not what important right now. What significance is this story right here, when the moon goddess encountered her partner she was smitten right away. Giving them a strong bond towards one another. With all the happiness she sh

Just let m help you Siren, let me turn your art to something beautiful,” handing me a piece of paper. I hesitantly took it from her hand. “You are not alone,” I unfolded the piece of paper with familiar drawing. It was a drawing of a baby inside a sunflower. In fact it was Chu. “Think about it,"

They were all pretty convincing. A big spiral-bound notebook made of drawing paper lay on the chair. I flipped through a few pages. Some had charcoal drawings made with angry looking strokes. Dark and rough, but still recognizable as fields and hills you’d find around here. Other pages had diagrams in pen with clusters of spidery notes. Prop guillotines and coffins with spring-loaded lids. But most of the pages had monsters. Some drawn, some cut from movie magazines and pasted in. Some were more Polaroids of James in makeup; others were ordinary pictures of people from advertisements or news stories. On those he’d painted open-throat wounds or gouged out eyes with pen.

LYRA POV Even though the room was dimly lit, it couldn't hide what surrounded me. Drawings. Everywhere I looked, there were drawings of me. Me standing in the garden, sunlight catching my hair. Me sleeping, my face peaceful and relaxed. Me walking through corridors, my dress flowing behind me. Me laughing at something, joy captured in careful pencil strokes. My hands shook as I reached out to touch one of the papers. The detail was perfect. Every line of my face, every strand of hair, every small expression—all captured with stunning accuracy.

My fingers traced along the sand for more answers, The drawings depicted everyday life, hunting, decorating, even a small story of what seems like a mermaid fighting an orca. I laughed it ended at a draw. The drawings gradually became better and more life-like I could even see the individual strokes of scales, the markings on each mermaid's body, I looked at my smooth skin and felt miffed. I did not have markings, hot could I get one? I followed the drawings until… Oh. The crude drawings faded into something breathtaking. A massive, lifelike mural spread before me, its details so vivid it felt as if it were alive. I had to float up a bit to take in the full thing.