Ponyboy Curtis Drawing Novels & Stories

He had four legs and his long hair was dragging to the floor. “It’s a picture of two people trapped in the wrong bodies.” The boy said. My heart skipped a beat. “How did you come up … I couldn’t even complete the sentence. I was too stunned and completely overwhelmed. “I just imagined it.” The boy said and snatched his cardboard from me. The other kids came forward to show me the flowers, open fields, and moonlight alongside other images they drew for Cain.

Cody was panting heavily to catch his breath as he was forced to continue pulling. She pulled back on his reigns to slow him down then stop him in front of one of the buildings. He heard Brea and Hannah kiss just as Brea stepped out of the cart to go to class. She then cracked the whip hard on Cody's back making the ponyboy trot away pulling her. It was much easier pulling just one person and Cody was picking up speed. Eventually they came to a large group of students and she pulled back on the reigns to slow him down and to her delight the ponyboy obeyed. She obviously loved showing off her control over her ponyboy.

He curled on the sofa, and I was grateful for the screen’s glow that absorbed him, leaving me alone with the howling quiet in my head. I needed to pack a bag for him. For where? A courthouse? A brief, sterile ceremony, then back here to wait for a hearing that would decide if he’d live with his father? I pulled his small dinosaur backpack from the floor, unzipping it to shake out yesterday’s crumpled socks and a granola bar wrapper. A piece of paper, folded into a thick, clumsy square, fluttered out. I picked it up. It was a drawing, done in the waxy, exuberant strokes of a five-year-old. Leo’s work. He must have done it at the country house.

“Draw me.” Goldie looks at Darryl and takes the pencil. He moves the tip of the pencil on the paper and begins to scribble a couple of circles and lines. Darryl watches him with intent, The drawing highlighted some of his facial features more than the others, almost like in a cartoonish style. “Good,” Darryl nods at him, “Now, draw what they did to you in Bilibid. Did they torture you? Blackmail? Kidnapped? ”

A few days pass after the Donnie incident at school. I don’t remember what happened, but I’m amazed that I stood up to him and fought back. The doctor told me everything that I had done. I was forced to write an apology letter to the school, Donnie and his parents. That wasn’t fun in the slightest. I sit at my desk in my room and open up my notebook. For some reason I’ve been drawing strange sketches recently of a strange creature. I don’t know what it is I’ve just drawn them. They’re quite disturbing. Especially that in my mind the creature murders children and takes their souls. It’s a bit dark…

~Ruby's POV~ “So what have you been doing all day?” I asked, closing the door behind me. “Mom!” Little Ruby squealed, running to hug me “Roman’s been helping us draw. Look!” She held up a page filled with a colorful creature. “Is this supposed to be Raphael from TMNT?” I said with a raised brow. “Yes, Mum.” I smiled faintly, ruffling her hair. “Looks like you’ve been busy.” Rhett stood up, holding out another drawing. “This one’s mine. Roman said it’s the best.”

The cast was even more colorful now new drawings had been added over the weekend, including a surprisingly detailed rocket ship that Colt had drawn during their last science lesson. "Your cast is so pretty," Ruby said, touching the edge of the rainbow she had drawn. "I wish I had a cast." "No, you don't," Emory said seriously. "It's very itchy. And you can't swim. And everyone stares at you in the hallway." "But you get to draw on it." "That part is fun." Colt appeared at the table, his lunch tray balanced precariously in one hand and his T-Rex—Rex—tucked under his other arm. Max and Charles followed close behind, already arguing about which dinosaur would win in a fight.

it just seemed too discordant to combine these two things. So, just as Jane Hilton was hesitating on how to introduce herself to this big boy, he saw the boy, who had been standing at the door with a tender look, gently closing the door after the car had gone. He turned back with a fierce expression, "Pretty boy, I don't care how my mom tricked you into coming here, but I'm destined to have nothing to do with drawing for the rest of my life. I won't learn to draw, you understand?"

“You look like you’ve been dragged to hell, and even hell didn’t want ya and sent you packin’.” “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I tease, rolling my eyes. “You’re a real southern gentleman, Curtis.” He waves me off with one of his huge, calloused hands. Curtis is average height and portly, but his strength is truly incredible. His stained white shirt is coated in sweat while he yanks and fumbles with the chainsaw, mumbling curses under his breath. I find his company comforting in a way I can’t explain. “Are there… big animals out here?”

"James drew this. I said to James we were going to your ceremony today. James wanted to express thanks for teaching James how to tie his shoe." She opened the envelope after he moved a little further away. It was a crayon drawing of her, James, and a cat suspiciously looking like Rita's. The caption said: You make things better. She swallowed a hard knot in her throat. --- Jackson sat in the corner of the room with Zack, low-profile clothing, watching everything. "He's trying to," Zack grunted, sipping his coffee. Jackson growled. "Trying doesn't pay consequences." "He's not like you," Zack said to him.