Sad Eyes Drawing Novels & Stories

I glanced at a few of the books, some fantasy novels and a small sketch pad. I opened the sketch pad and looked through it, she was good. Really good. The scenes were mostly outdoors. Forests, waterfalls, mountains. All done with such grace and precision. Each more lovely and realistic than the last. I noticed at the bottom there was a J written as beautifully as the drawings themselves. I got to the last page and there was a drawing of a moon. Bright and beautiful in the sky but there was something else to it. The drawing felt sad. “What the hell.” I snapped as I lifted my hand and wiped a tear from my cheek.

I don’t feel like going for a run so I decide to draw the woman before I forget her face. I walk over to my desk to get out my sketch pad and pencils and begin drawing. I try to remember as much detail as possible. Her almond shaped eyes and high cheek bones. Her head was a heart shape like mine and she had full lips. I drew her fishtail braid but had it hang from her shoulder and even though it was braided her hair still reached her waist. After I am finished I looked at my drawing. I had given her sad eyes like in my dream but I still can’t shake this feeling like I know her and she looks so much like me. Or maybe I am just imagining it. I tuck the drawing away in my sketch book, leaving i

I'm alone without Paige, maybe her sick sister is still being watched. I sat down in my seat here in the art room and arranged everything I would use for drawing. I thought of Vaz and slowly moved my hand to start drawing. In my brain was Vaz's serious face looking at the sky as if someone was talking. Maybe he misses his Mom has long since passed away. I slowly moved my hands and drew what was on my mind. I’m sad to see Vaz in my mind. Maybe he misses his Mother so much because I always catch him looking at the sky. After drawing I started coloring it. When I thought it was over, I stepped back a little so I could see my work properly. A man carrying a candy bag and looking at the bright mo

Hades is an amazing artist. Another picture I saw a demon eating a heart. The strings were coming out of his own chest. Means he was eating his own heart. I gulped once again. In the next picture, I saw a man lying and his soul was leaving his body. Next, he drew a man smiling creepily. His smile was the most horrible thing he drew. Next, I saw a woman’s face. She was smiling through her lips but was crying through her eyes. Her eyes reflected torture but still she was smiling.

It makes me want to cry. A painting of me. The central figure—a solitary face—emerges from a backdrop of deep, brooding colors that seem to absorb all light. My eyes, brimming with raw, unspoken emotions, the intensity. The rich, dark hues of the canvas, ranging from shadowy blues to somber grays, so somber, melancholic atmosphere, amplifying the depth of sadness in the eyes, my eyes. So many details, I look tortured but at the same time there's something free about the painting and my eyes they look bright and happy. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

Sadie's meticulously applied makeup was marred by her tears, giving her the appearance of a disheveled mess. "Yaslyn," Sadie whispered, "you're kind-hearted, aren't you?" Yaslyn chuckled, her lips curled in disdain as she pulled away. "You leave me be, I leave you be. I never claimed to be kind-hearted." From Yaslyn's words, Sadie realized the bleak truth—she was not going to be let off easily. Resigned, she sat on the ground, silent tears streaking her face. Fear had gripped her heart. She could not predict what would happen next. All she knew was that she was doomed.

I smiled at her. “It doesn't look pretty when I close my eyes.” She sighed dropping her brush. “But we can make it pretty. If it is not pretty then it is not worth drawing,” I said, pulling her closer to me. Scarlett smiled nodding her head. I took her brush and stretched it to her. With this, she continued to draw. This time, I just watched. My heart was shooting pain to my nervous system. My baby used to draw colourful things. Birds. Barbie. Anything that had colour.

" I kept my Diary aside and took a pen and a piece of paper. He is like my heart beat so I should write something like that. So many days I haven't seen you. But then also, why I feel that you are with me always everywhere? What will I do with my fingers?Every time I want to draw some one. My fingers led me to draw you. Is it my crazinessness? Or you are also crazy about me? Yesterday, in the road of my life I met sadness whom I hugged and cried The one who was mine, Why did I lose her? The eyes whom I kiss without any reason

Sandra said and the woman gave her a huge smile. "Can I ask you for something?" She asked. Sandra didn't want to make promises she would not fulfill but seeing how the woman looked like she was about to cry..she nodded and smiled back. "Can you make him draw you? My Son has never drawn anything ever since that girl broke his heart and left him. He began having hand tremors when he'd want to draw and ever since then...he has stopped drawing a damn thing. He doesn't even write much cause of it." The woman explained.

A girl who has my face. It’s surreal. How do you recognize yourself from a faded drawing? But…these are no ordinary drawings. It feels like someone has drawn the sharp lines of my face with perfection, carefully outlining everything to match my features. My eyes—a dark, sparkling blue color is the only color that has not faded and turned yellow or brown. The contrast of that bright color against the old, dead papers…does something to my heart. Without realizing it, I touch my chest. A light pain starts deep inside somewhere.