Wonderland Drawings Novels & Stories

After Millie came back from school, she sat at the table drawing. Before long, she fell asleep. I noticed a drawing tucked beneath her arm. On the paper were two adults holding a little child's hands. It was a family portrait. Beneath the drawing were a few simple words. "I hope Dad and Mom can make up and take me to the aquarium." It was Millie's wish. My eyes instantly turned red. I felt even more heartbroken knowing that such a simple wish was impossible for me to fulfill. I carefully placed the drawing back on the table.

Shelves filled with stuffed animals, puzzles stacked neatly in a corner, art supplies spread across a small table. Tamera ran over to show him her drawings. “I made this yesterday!” Lance stared at the colorful paper. It was a drawing of two stick figures holding hands. One tall. One small. Above them she had drawn a crooked sun and written their names. Lance swallowed. “That’s… really good.” Tamera smiled proudly. Behind him, Ragnar stepped quietly into the room. Lance turned and looked at him. For a moment neither of them spoke. Then Lance glanced back at the toys, the drawings, the warm house around them.

"It's settled, then. You will have our protection and a place to stay during your time in Black Creek." As their meeting finally came to an end, I couldn't help but feel a sense of wonder at the walls adorned with drawings and paintings. The images depicted wolves in various forms, some in fierce battle stances, and others in moments of tranquility. But what struck me the most were the drawings that seemed eerily familiar. I walked closer to one of them, my heart quickening as I realized that the wolf in the drawing was striking a fighting stance that mirrored one I had often used. It was as if the artist had captured my movements with uncanny precision.

I thought I secretly did that but now I know he observed everything thing. I sat on the ground and looked carefully at the gift. Did he really gift me because of my behaviour or because he didn't want to get his walls dirty. I took the basket on one hand and the sketches on the other and walked towards the house. Our house was surrounded with forests and mountains. So most of my drawing was about mountains and forests. *** "If you don't like them we can get another one" Loren said breaking me out my thought his eyes were searching for mine. He was done with his files and his focus was on me. I was so happy seeing them that I couldn't speak when Loren didn't get a reply.

Moana That night, after Ella calmed down enough and agreed to clean up her room with our help, I laid in bed and found myself unable to sleep following the events of the day. Every time I closed my eyes, I pictured the creepy man from the mall; even more than that, however, I pictured Edrick’s soft eyes staring up at me as he held Ella on the floor and I felt his protective arm around my shoulders. I decided eventually that I couldn’t sleep for a while, so I decided to get my sketchbook out and draw. Although I had been working on another sketch for the past couple of days, I decided to turn to a fresh page that night and draw a scene that I couldn’t get out of my head: the image of Edrick h

All I knew was that I dozed off into a very deep sleep. HEAVEN. My eyes opened slowly and I glanced around the little building. It looked so strange and childish, with ugly drawings on the wall. Different colors were plastered everywhere with drawings of shape and funny looking crystal balls. One actually piqued my interest, a drawing that looked like a man on the throne with the moon above his head. Below him were dead bodies and a sword in his hands. I raised my body at once and took a look at the crooked drawing. The head of the man has a symbol of the moon and I gasped.

They had no idea when Nat would figure out where they were. As she continued to turn the pages, the sketches became a bit more meaningful, some a bit darker. There was one of an angel falling from a dark sky, another of a figure surrounded by flames. Her mother looked away from that one, and she was certain she was thinking of her father. Ru wondered which of them had drawn it and when. Eventually, she came to the one she was looking for. Her own back, though much smaller. She assumed the hands around her were her mothers, as she rested on top of a blanket that was likely the one sitting next to her on the bed.

Late at night, I often sit alone at the table, flipping through the children’s old scribbles— Marcellus drew “a hero guarding a fortress,” Elias drew “a bridge linking two shores, people hand in hand.” We started this dream… to make the world in their drawings real. But now, it’s all teetering on the edge of ruin. If no miracle comes— Diary – Entry IV Strangely enough… something may have shifted. And absurdly— It started with little Livia. Apparently, while playing, she “discovered something.” She said it was “the sound of wind blowing from underground.”

Afterward, while she cleaned the plates without being asked, I sat on the terrace and watched the sunlight stretch lazily across the floor. Everything was still as mesmerising as when I first saw it yesterday. There were colours I didn't even think existed. The world outside this villa in the estate moved on, but here, it was like time slowed down. Heri disappeared after a while. I found her curled on the couch, sketching quietly in a notepad. “Did you draw these?” I asked. She nodded. There were wolves in her drawings. Big ones, small ones, some mid-shift, half-human, half-beast. She was good. Like, really good.

I promise, knowing how little the promise is worth. She moves the boy behind her. Only then do I see the crude drawings scrawled in the dust near where he sat. Stick figures, drawn with a child's impatience—three of them, all large, triangular heads, each with exaggerated, fanged mouths. Their bodies are wolfish, or what a boy imagines a wolf must be: hunched, heavy at the shoulder, legs that end in claws. One figure holds a stick, or maybe a sword. The last is bigger than the others, looming above a crowd of smaller shapes—people, presumably, but every one drawn with a red X where the heart should be. The mother follows my gaze. "He says the wolves walk upright, like men. They come at night