Wybie Coraline Drawing Novels & Stories

she said softly, "I made this for you." I looked down. The cardboard was covered in crayons. A badly drawn sun occupied one corner. Stick figures stood beneath it. One had dark curls that were obviously meant to be Rose. Another had long hair for Selene. The tallest figure stood between them. Me. Above the drawing, written in crooked, uneven letters, were words that made something tighten painfully inside my chest. My Family.

Fabian was slightly stunned but he understood her intention from her beautiful, huge eyes. “Is this for me?” Fabian asked gently. Lillian blinked her huge eyes and nodded gently. Fabian took the card happily and carefully opened it. Within it was a drawing. The drawing depicted a tall boy and a small girl, clearly him and Lillian. Lillian’s drawing was very childlike; the contour of the persons was also childishly drawn, and even the colors used were not anything refined.

Isobel waited, poised. “Did she say anything else?” Sloane asked finally. “Only this.” Isobel reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew a folded piece of old paper. Not new. Not even remotely recent. Yellowed, brittle at the corners. Sloane took it carefully. Inside was a child’s drawing. Crayon markings were faded. It was a crude house, all windows and too-tall doors. A girl in red. Another girl with no face. On the back, in soft pencil:

"Your art teacher wants to see a photo of Corinne because I think she really looked like her when she was young. But I can't find any photo of her. I'm afraid your art teacher's going to be disappointed." Lilin immediately came up with an idea. "Mommy, have you forgotten that I'm a painter? I can just draw a picture of Corinne if there's no photo of her!" "Oh yeah, you're right! Hurry up, and do it now! I'll take a photo of the drawing once it's completed and send it to your art teacher!" Lilin nodded and ran to get some paper and a pencil. … Meanwhile, at the Holdens' mansion.

He held out a rolled piece of paper, tied with a red ribbon that was slightly crumpled as though it had been tied by someone still learning to tie things with precision. She looked at it. She looked at George. He was already looking at her. She untied the ribbon. She unrolled the paper. A drawing. Crayon. A man in the middle — taller, dark-haired, smiling with the specific crayon smile of someone whose artist has studied them. A woman on the left — dark hair, a purple coat that Kristine had worn last week. And a small girl on the right with her father's eyes, which Lily had rendered in blue crayon with considerable care.

Heloise didn't take off her gloves and immediately picked up a brush. "I apologize, but I'd like to use the restroom before starting," Coral said with a smile. Naturally, no one would object, so Coral swiftly left the room, holding her skirt. Heloise stood in front of the canvas, watching Coral's retreating figure like she was escaping. Behind her mask, the corners of her lips curled with a mocking curve. Her fingers deftly tossed the brush in her hand into the air, caught it, dipped it in paint, and started painting on the canvas.

Miya looked at her with his eyebrow arched. "Chris Butler loves a girl called Coraline who looks, well, looks very much like me. It's said that she was his cousin, so he couldn't be with her. Also, she died years ago. So he has been looking for someone like her. Isn't it funny that I look like Sol And Coraline?" "How much alike are you and her?" Miya asked. "Let me show you." Miya clicked on Chris's W******p profile picture and showed it to Miya.

Al asked. “Because he found mine.” “It’s too small.” “He has big head.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. Gabby picked up a yellow crayon and began drawing circles beside the two-dimensional version of Rafael. “Lemon tree,” she explained before anyone could ask. The tree looked more like broccoli with chickenpox, but I respected the intention. Al leaned closer. “Draw vomit.” “No.” “He saw my vomit.” “It’s ugly.” “You said my face ugly too.”

I heard the scratch of a drawer, the pad of feet, and she was back in thirty seconds with a fistful of crayons and a folded piece of brown paper she smoothed flat on the table. She started drawing. I watched her work. A house. A stick figure with long hair. Another beside it, taller. A small one between them. "What are you drawing?" "Us." She selected a blue crayon. "I'm drawing us in your big house." Something pressed against the inside of my chest. The house was very large with a mess of flowers to one side. The other side was a row of careful green strokes dotted with red circles that were probably tomatoes.

"The what?" Aiden proudly lifted the parchment, presenting it with a triumphant flourish. It was a masterpiece of terrible stick figures. There was a tall, blocky man with a jagged golden crown, a woman wearing an oversized silver tiara, a small blob representing a little boy, a giant black dog with six legs, a glowing stick figure surrounded by yellow loops, and a final girl drawn with aggressively angry V-shaped eyebrows. Kael let out a long, dry sigh. "Let me guess. The one with the furious eyebrows is your long-lost aunt?"