Percy Jackson Drawing Easy Novels & Stories

I know, it's not always easy for a new student who just moved from another country. He is drawing something. "Hey, Edwin." I take a seat beside him. "You wanna see my drawing?" He covers the page with his thumb. "No. But show me if you want." I reply. He uncovers the page, straightening the sketch book. Jesus Christ. He drew Emilia and Jake. His eyes are opened and her eyes are closed. They are kissing. "It looks....real. You draw well, boy." Edwin smiles, looking a bit shy. "Thanks."

Ace chimed in, his eyes shining with pride. I couldn't help but smile at their infectious energy, feeling a warmth spread through my heart. Pushing aside my worries for a moment, I shifted my focus to them, eager to see their creations. "That's wonderful, sweeties! Let me see." I beckoned them closer, and they eagerly rushed over, holding their drawings into my hands. Luna's drawing shown a colorful garden scene, complete with flowers, butterflies, and a shining sun, while Ace's featured a tall tree laden with apples, surrounded by smiling stick-figure people.

I stopped at a page with a drawing of a middle school girl. I felt a shiver run down my spine as I stared at the drawing. The girl in the sketch couldn't be more than 12 or 13 years old, with a messy ponytail and a sm scattering of freckles across her nose. Her eyes, though – they were the same shade of bright, piercing green as mine, and they sparkled with a mix of mischief and curiosity. She was wearing a faded school uniform, and her smile was wide and carefree.

Thor ordered. “Yes, boss! Right away!” Several young people returned to the store and brought a pen, paper, and table. Thor put the paper on the table and began to draw on it. Soon, a face appeared on the paper. It was quite similar to David.

Leo cheered, skidding to a halt beside my chair and thrusting the paper right into my lap. I looked down at the drawing, a soft, involuntary smile breaking across my face. It was drawn in bold, vibrant colors. In the center was a stone castle with blue flags on the turrets. Standing in the grass out front were three stick-figure people holding hands. On the left was a figure with black hair in a red dress labeled Mommy. On the right was a broad figure colored in black crayon labeled Mr. Tyson. And right between them, holding both of their hands with a yellow smiley face, was a smaller figure labeled Leo.

he whispers before pecking me on the lips. “Hey,” I reply, taking a peck of my own. “How’s everything going?” “Dare I say, pretty smoothly,” he remarks. “No complications so far.” “That’s great!” “Mommy, daddy, here!” Ending our conversation, Lucy shows us an A4 sheet full of stick figures she’d drawn, smiling under the sun while standing on grass. Well, they aren’t quite stick-like figures, they certainly look better than my own drawings at her age. It seemed like somebody was developing talent. She’d taken an interest in drawing lately, and it had stuck more than her previous interests had.

A minute later Keyla heard cupboard doors opening in the kitchen. Leo, at the table with paper and crayons, was drawing something he'd been working on since breakfast. Three figures in a house — the same round heads and stick bodies he always used, circles for heads, lines for bodies, and a square structure around them with a door. He'd labeled none of them, which was unusual; Usually there would already be letters beside each figure. Something seemed to occur to him. He switched crayons and went back to the drawing. Only then did Keyla look away from the contract. She leaned slightly toward the drawing. "Who's that?"

I tried to say but my words were lost when she hugged my legs and tried shoving the drawing into my face, "Okay, I'll see it." "And nothing happened Zade," I spat the words back at him because for some reason, I was mad Jason wasn't the one here. Zade raised his shoulders in a shrug, "Well if you say so," His wink at the end seemed to aggravate me the more. I decided to ignore him and just focus on the drawing Amethyst brought. Some kind of stick drawing of a female because of the hair. "Who's this?" I asked, trying my best not to laugh.

"What will we draw?" "You will draw something or someone that means a lot to you, Danae. And once you are done each one of you will show and tell a story about your drawing with the rest." I gaze at the female with her long neatly groomed braids who is sat closely next to Calix as I answer her. These two are Argus's closest friends. "Can we draw butterflies?" "Yes, you can." "Can I draw my favourite fruit? It is an apple." "Yes." "What about the hut I live with mama?"

Maybe years. And then I see the drawings. Taped to the walls, scattered across tables, covering nearly every surface I can see. Sketches in charcoal and pencil, some detailed and finished, most of them half-done like he started and couldn’t bring himself to continue. All of them are the same person. A girl. Young, fourteen or fifteen maybe, with long dark hair and this smile that looks like it could light up an entire room. In some of the drawings she’s laughing at something off the page. In others she’s concentrating hard, her tongue stuck between her teeth the way kids do when they’re focused.