Let's Draw

[Lyn05]

Hi LitNetters! It's been too long since I wrote anything other than essays. I couldn't think of a better title, and I didn't want to give anything away. Hopefully those who read this won't be able to guess what's going on too early in the story. I wouldn't say the idea is novel, but I hope the presentation is at least different from what you'd expect. Comments/criticisms are welcome. Thanks and hope you'll like this!

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She had finally found me.

Thank God, I thought. Which was ironic, since I didn't believe in God anymore.

The girl gently lifted me in her arms, and brushed my hair out of my face, giving me a clear view of hers. Her blond hair was tied neatly into two braids that rested at her shoulders. She stared at me with brown eyes that were filled with curiosity and triumph, like she had found some treasure.

Boy, what did she know.

I could see myself in her eyes. My face was dirty and my hair was all messed up, the ribbon that held it in place long frayed and torn. Suddenly, I felt a pang of shame at what I had become, although to be fair, the state I was in was no fault of my own.

Or, maybe, it was. A little. Sort of.

But that didn't matter anymore. Now that I've met this girl, everything will change.

Hopefully.

I just needed enough time to make it work.


*

The girl's name was Sara. She was a sweet little girl, and I almost felt like giving up on my plan.

To tell the truth, she had been taking care of me really well. She got me cleaned up, gave me a new hairband and let me share her bed.

"So, Sara," I said, sitting down next to her on the floor one afternoon, as she played with her teddy bear. "I just wanted to thank you for taking care of me over these past weeks."

Sara curled her hair behind her ear as she turned to look at me, and smiled.

I felt another pang of guilt. I tried to suppress it, and found that it was surprisingly easy to do so. I must have had been alone for too long; perhaps I was becoming devoid of emotion. If so, what would that mean?

I did a mental shrug.

All the better. It just made my task easier.

"It's not a problem," she chirped, and then she laughed merrily. She brought her bear over to me and snuggled it's face against mine. Then, she started to hum a tune.

For a moment I had forgotten what it was, but then I realised it was the 'song' I had taught her. Just a week ago, I had told Sara I'd teach her a rhyme, and dared her to see if she could remember it.

In the end, she came up with a tune all on her own, as a way of helping her remember the words. What a smart girl.

"You know what?" I began. It was time to put my plan into action. "Let's go somewhere special. I know there's a secret place in this house. Wanna see?"

Sara put the bear down at the mention of 'secret'. Her eyes lit up with excitement, and then they became doubtful. She placed her hands at her waist dramatically and cocked her head.

"Are you sure?" she asked me, drawing out the 'sure'.

I laughed- genuinely laughed, because she looked too adorable. But still, it wasn't enough to change my mind.

I can't back out now, I told myself. I've waited too long. And with that, I buried all emotion, leaving me just with cold, raw conviction.

I convinced Sara to go to the study room, and we were at the door when she stopped, her hand hovering over the handle.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

Sara chewed on her lip and her eyebrows were knitted in a frown. "It's Daddy's idea room. He said I shouldn't enter without him knowing."

Sara's father was a designer. He probably didn't want his daughter to end up ruining his works by accident.

"Well," I said, looking Sara in the eye. "Your Daddy's not home. He's at work, right? And your mum's downstairs in the living room. If you go in quickly and come out again, then no one will know."

Sara seemed to consider this carefully. She was taking a little too long.

"Sara," I said impatiently. "If we don't go and see it now, we may never have a chance."

Her eyes moved from me to the door and back to me.

"It's now or never."

And those were just the right words.


*

There was a loose panel at the back of the cabinet in the corner of the study room. I got Sara to move it, and told her to feel for a switch on the right.

She found it easily, not without grimacing at the cobwebs that got caught on her dress. Soon the room before us flickered into view.

Sara seemed afraid of entering, not that I could blame her. I had felt the same way, some time ago.

But just as curiosity had gotten the better of me, it did the same to her. With some nudging on my part, she finally crawled in.

The ceiling was low, but Sara was small so she could stand up straight without a problem. There were no windows in the room, making it warm and stuffy. It was empty except for a box on the floor.

That box contained all that I needed.

"Now," I said, keeping my voice low. "Let's draw. You like to draw, don't you?"

"Uh-huh." Sara said, hesitating. She still seemed a little afraid.

This wouldn't do.

I used what I thought of as my hypnotizing voice.

Over the years, something changed. I realised I'd gained some small abilities, although I if used them for prolonged periods of time I'd get tired. And when that happens, my ability would lose its effect.

Time did funny things to you, or maybe it was all in my head. It'd worked before, just that the last time my plan was thwarted halfway through. Now that I was so close, I was going all out.

"Sara, listen to me," I said, my voice becoming more like an echo. "See? There's a box of chalk over there. Choose a colour you like, go on."

I watched as her eyes went blank, and she walked to the box and grabbed a purple chalk. Her movements were slow and jerky.

"Good, good job, Sara," I coaxed. "Now, take that paper, in the box. Copy the drawing."

She did as she was told, and I could feel the energy draining out of me. Beads of perspiration rolled down the side of her face.

Next, I got her to light three candles, instructing her to place them at specific points on the diagram on the floor.

Finally, I called her to me.

She picked me up, and we went to the middle of the diagram.

"Now," I said.

"Sing."


*

"Sara?" Jennifer called out. Where was her daughter? She'd been in her room playing, but now she wasn't to be found.

Unless, she was in her father's study.

Jennifer smiled to herself. Sara had always loved to draw, and she'd shown great interest in her dad's designs. If only Steve was less uptight about his work. She sighed.

The door to the study was ajar, confirming Jennifer's suspicions.

"Sara," she said, adopting a playful tone. "Come on out, honey. I promise I won't tell Daddy, okay?"

The moment she entered the room, however, she sensed something wrong.

"Sweetie?" Jennifer called out. "Where are you? Come out right now." Just then she spotted the open cabinet and walked towards it quickly.

"Sara? Sara!" Jennifer shouted. She gasped when she saw the wooden panel against the wall, and the room it had hidden. "Oh my god... what is this?"

She dropped to her knees and saw her daughter inside, drenched in perspiration and looking scared.

"Oh, Sara, come on here," Jennifer reached for Sara's hand. Her daughter gripped her hand tightly and crawled out, taking a doll with her.

"Where did you get that?" Jennifer asked.

Sara merely hugged the doll and clung on to Jennifer as she carried her out. Jennifer shook her head. Sara was probably too spooked to say anything.

"Alright, let's just get you cleaned up first, okay? We'll tell your Daddy about this when he gets back," Jennifer spoke softly to her daughter as she stroked her back.

"Okay, Mom," Sara replied, her face pressed again Jennifer's shoulder.

Jennifer stopped and looked at Sara. Her daughter looked up back at her.

Sara had never called her Mom, it was always Mommy.

"Is something wrong?" Sara asked.

"Oh, no, dear. It's nothing. Mommy's just a little shocked about finding that room," Jennifer replied.