Sad Eyes Drawing Novels & Stories

he explained, like he was trying to bring in the memories I had forgotten. Right now, I was cut up in the middle. The Charlotte girl loved drawing, which is not something I can do. He said it calmed her, and she drew even when she was sad. It explains that acting sad to avoid drawing wouldn’t work. And so I needed to act fast to avoid being caught. “That was then Adrain, when I was younger. But now, a lot is going on in my life. I don’t want to draw.” I finalized. Seems we aren’t much ahead of Adrain. This part of Charlotte wasn’t mentioned to me, and Dad didn’t know either.

His nose had a green stripe, his left cheek was slashed with red like war paint, and across his forehead, in all caps, someone had written: BOOM. “Fascinating,” I muttered. “Proof that a handsome man can lose every ounce of dignity with one box of Crayolas and a confident kid.” Ash sat in his lap, laughing like he’d conquered the art world. “You want one too, mami? We can draw hearts on your face!” I ran a hand through his hair and kissed his head. “mami already spent the day drawing new futures in divorce paperwork, sweetheart. That’s enough art for today.” Zane tilted his head, eyes scanning me slowly. “You look tired.”

Harley says, wiping his tears. "It's okay, bubba." I say, kissing his head and smoothing his hair down. He opens the piece of paper and smiles when he sees a drawing of two stick figures, one being small and one being big, the small one being Kai and the big one being Vixen. There's a heart in the middle and it's colored in and outside the lines and- awww, she wrote her name at the bottom. "It's beautiful, baby. Thank you." Vixen says, kissing her cheek.

She shrugs and keeps coloring. I look down at her drawing. I took an introductory child psychology class last semester as part of the pediatrics program. I remember enough about it to suspect that this child is a little depressed. All of the pictures are made with dark neutrals of blacks, browns, and greys. There’s no color anywhere. Each drawing contains a solitary person standing alone, which I recall is a sign that indicates loneliness.

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.

Bending slightly, I took out my sketchbook from a drawer, and placed it on the table. “He’s crazy if he thinks I’m his wife. He’s completely crazy. Damn him.” I spat, and began to sketch designs into the book. I didn’t have a particular design in my head. I just went with the flow, accepting whatever stroke my hand made. The next day, after taking my bath, I left my room, and walked around cautiously, not wanting to bump into John. Outside, in front of the pool, Sadie sat on a beach chair, with her phone in her hands. Then, she spotted me.

The yellow changed into soft gold, and I added more black lines around it, but the lines looked more like cracks, or maybe… like broken glass. I didn’t know why. But the image of Aidan’s face flashed in my mind. The way he looked scared. The way he begged me to stay away. And then, Raven’s cold eyes as they looked at me. Before I realized it, I had drawn a silhouette of a man behind the dress. His face wasn’t clear, it was just hidden in shadow. But he looked like he was watching from far away. I stared at my sketch, and came back to my senses. What the hell was I drawing?

I was too lost to think about it, and started jumping, my heart beating faster, too fast, almost at a life-threatening rate. “Kai sent out your drawings and guess what?” His words made my movement halt, “they were sold, all five of them.” The glimmer in his eyes shining brightly as he extended his hand to pass me another envelope. “What do you mean sold?” I questioned, perplexed. “Approximately $79 thousand per piece,” I died at the moment, those six paintings, I drew with my heart. Expressing an emotion of sorrow in different ways, Kai had everything sorted out from the beginning, he was helping me around when I stood like a wall in his way.

He was not pleased by her answer, his eyebrows knitted together and stared intently at her, trying to see her emotions, even though he would not properly understand it, he was blind for most of his life after all. "I am confused, you say you are okay, yet you give a wave of sadness over me, is this what a sad face looks like?" he asked as he noticed her eyebrows pull down and her lips occasionally twitched downwards. She gave a confused look, but then told herself he would not know what a sad face looked like on most people and sighed to herself. It would be rude not to teach him things, she thought it would be selfish to not help him, she was his mate after all, even though he did not know.

“Do you think it means something?” I hugged my knees. “I don’t know. But I think she’s real.” Rhett rubbed his eyes. “Could you give me a sketch or something?” I got out of bed, tiptoed over to the desk, and grabbed some paper and crayons. I didn’t talk—I just drew. Big swirly black veil. Hollow eyes. Long fingers. Long black dress. Rhett stared at it like he was studying a treasure map. “That’s... not normal,” he said.