My stories

blank pages and blood stains

When I was younger around seven I discovered a secret power i had, anything i drew was alive or something like that. I could draw a dog and it would start running around the page and wagging its tail. If I drew a grassland the flowers would bloom, the grass would grow, and little animals would play in the openings. And stuff like that, but I told my parents, they didn't believe me until I showed them and they made sure my little secret was kept that way. I was homeschooled, forced to stay at home and was not allowed to leave. By the time I was eighteen I had no friends, no school, and no social life. So I made my own friends, after a while I figured out my drawings could communicate back if I drew them stuff to write with. It was the only amount of social interaction I got but I still loved them like real friends, whatever that was. As time passed I spent more and more time on my drawings. I had piles of them but recently they have been disappearing. At first I thought they were trashed by my parents, but when I talked to them they denied touching them at all. After weeks of them disappearing I started to find them around my room, but they were different, animals, slaughtered, grasslands, burned, people, missing. And this strange occurrence became more, and more common as time went by. But one of my drawings always stayed the same, Jake, a human drawing I drew when I was thirteen. He was my favorite. It took me a total of one hour and twenty minutes to draw him, but i didn't mind, besides what is there to do if you sit in your room all day anyway, wasn't exactly missing out on Doing anything. Jake was one of the drawings that I would constantly communicate with the most, and he was the most like a friend. One night I was so mad that they were all gone, I went to bed early that night grounded for screaming at my parents and blaming them for my lack of freedom. At around midnight a bang erupted throughout the house coming from my closet, luckily my parents left the house last night to stay at my grandparents house to "give me some space" not like I already had so much of it, But unlucky me woke up to the noise. As I sat up from my bed a second more quiet bang came from the same place followed by a hiss not like a serpent, it sounded more like the time my father dropped a dictionary on his foot and tried not to scream as to not wake mom. I slowly walked over to the door and tried not to laugh at the thought, as I opened the door I was met with the sight of Jake that had somehow come to life and got stuck in a coat hanger upside down. As we made eye contact I couldn't help but laugh a bit at him but once the coat hanger broke and I was grabbed and pulled into the blank page that laid on the floor beneath the man I had once drawn, I laughed no more. For now I'm trapped in the drawing I had once drawn with the man who I believed was my friend, but now he believes I'm his lover.....