What Drawing Is For
I draw. My pain, misery, hate makes me a huge mess. But when I draw, I am nothing except a pencil scribbling on paper. The curves lines make me float away from my hard life.
I never had parents. I was raised in an orphanage. The closest thing I had to a mother was a bunch of old ladies. I was sick and tired of sleeping with other mean kids, so I ran away when I was eight.
I scavenged dumpsters for food, slept in abandoned shelters in the woods. I slipped into alleys whenever the police passed by. I lived on and finally maintained a decent life.
Now, all the money I get from selling my sketches and drawings are used on buying more paper and pencils. Oh, and an occasional hamburger wouldn’t hurt. But my main source of food is from the rich district’s trash and Ms. Llevato.
Ms. Llevato owns a bakery. She’s only 7 years older than me, but she acted like my mom. Sometimes, I would say a quick hi, then slip away (I’m very good at slipping away. The police an amazingly desperate when it comes to finding me.), but she always insisted I ate some muffins before I leave. "You need some fat on those bones, young lady!" She would always say.
I’m distracted from my thoughts when I heard a loud dumpster clang. Footsteps walk towards my direction. I pull my dirty bed sheets over my head.
The person walked in front of me. I was too scared to look at the person’s face, so I kept my face buried under the sheet. The person drops something in front of me and says "Good luck. Have fun." It was a woman voice. She sounded strong and confident. Then she clicked her tongue and walked away.
I yank my bed sheet away. A package wrapped in styrofoam sat in front of me and seem to tell me: Well, what are you doing here looking at me? Open me already! I grabbed the package with delicacy and ripped it open. There was a pad of paper and a multicolor pencil wrapped with it. I was slightly disappointed. She could at least given me some cash! I was still grateful for it. Wait… I tilted the paper in the sunlight. It shined and glinted as if it was polished. The pen radiated warmth.
Hum, not so bad. I gave the pad of paper a try. I drew a cat.
I started with its body and head. Then its limbs and facial features. I finished with the whiskers, fur, and a small fluffy tail. As soon as I finished with the glint in its eyes. The cat peeled itself off the paper and purred. It stretched its back and jumped in my arms.
I realized what I can do with this paper. I smiled for the first time in years.
2 months later
I sat back into my couch. Coco, my first drawing, a beautiful black, and white tabby, purred in my arms. For the past few months, I drew new houses for the homeless and gave them a pile of cash. I told them its time to start a new life.
Author Notes: Random, terrible...sorry XD Thanks for reading though!