Sad Face Draw Novels & Stories

You have an emergency call that needs your attention now, Mr Drew! Out of mere curiosity, Adele turned her head towards the direction the lady was running and she saw a very handsome man who had a deep frown on his beautiful and well-carved eyebrows when he stared at the lady running towards him, his lips were pursed in a thin line, his nose pointy and sexy, his black eyes narrowed, he was tall and well built with great physics visible under his expensive tailored suit.

At that moment, my eyes spotted a drawing on the chalkboard. A caricature of me was drawn on the board with sticks for legs and chicken wings for hands. I knew it was me because there was a rash dotting the face and a giant pimple on the forehead. A small caption was written underneath it: (Beware of the gifts you receive, UGLY NIVIA).

“Draw a better version of yourself—the one you want to become. Then draw how you see yourself right now.” The due date was the end of the year. I started to draw. I started with my face. Big nose. Pimples. Curly hair—the one thing I liked. Then I drew an oversized hoodie and baggy pants. The better version was cleaner. Same hair. Smaller nose. No pimples. Slit eyebrows. Goatee. Muscles, but still skinny. Mason leaned over. “You think you’ll end up like that, Pablo?” “No,” I said. “But you definitely won’t.”

A few minutes alone will give me a chance to scrape up my last surviving brain cells. “S-sure. Okay.” Cheeks pink, Sadie wobbles out of the pop-up bar. She doesn’t look back at me.

Some of them I’d burnt out back last fall, when I got too scared of what I was drawing. I didn’t even think about it. Didn’t plan. Just picked up the stub of a pencil and started dragging lines. At first it was nothing. Just the shape of a face, blank and smooth. A ridge of hair. The arch of a brow. The way a shadow falls just under a cheekbone. Then I caught myself. My hand was sketching his mouth. That almost-smile. That sharp corner at the right side that always looked like it was about to say something cruel... or worse, honest.

"You have no idea how much guys love my voice." I just stared at her, thinking she was in her own little world. She was really fooling herself. After Sadie finished putting on her makeup, I barely recognized her. She looked scarier than when she was on her live streams! Her foundation was caked on so thick that it was like a blanket of snow. Her face had bumps all over, just like a toad's skin. Her lips were a bright, fake Barbie pink, and her eyebrows were so overdone they looked like wiggly caterpillars.

_______________ The image popped in her head, causing her to bolt from her chair. “I need a pencil! Anybody got a pencil? It's really urgent” she yelled. “I got a pencil, Hadassah” Jemma, her co-worker answered, tossing the pencil to her. “Thanks Jemma” Hadassah smiled as she caught the pencil. She rushed to her seat and frantically scribbled and doodled a rough sketch of the face that came to her mind. It wasn't exactly clear as she was terrible at sketching, she always had been. But she remembered the stitch scar on the right side of the man's unusually white face, his red eyes, browless face and death glare.

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Zach draped an arm over my shoulders and pulled me close to him before planting a kiss on my forehead "I'll walk you home" he murmured and I smiled "Let's go" * Six Hours Later * I was seated at my desk in my room at home with my sketchbook. I was sketching the face of the scary redhead I had dreamt about. I wasn't exactly a master at drawing but my art teacher in high school had often told me I was really good at drawing portraits and landscapes. I made sure to capture every detail about her face, starting from her ginger coloured hair, to her perfectly pointed nose, her light freckles and her plump lips. But most of all, those terrifying black eyes that looked demonic.

Don't know why I choose to draw the side profile, maybe because, for a few days I was staring at Michael's side profile and I thought now I kind of know how to draw the curve of eyes, nose and lips. As I finish drawing the rough curve from forehead till chin, it actually looks like a boy's face and it makes me feel frustrated. It kind of looks like Michael's face to me. I tilt my head and look at Michael to see whether the face I drew actually looks like him. Yes ! it kind of ! Michael is now leisurely drawing on the canvas in front of him with his left hand and he looks really relaxed. I avert my gaze from his face to his canvas to evaluate his drawing skills.