Drawing Me Under

Journal 56In Chapter 7, Collin has just screamed at his mom that he hates her and will never forgive her. He runs up to his room in the attic of this old mansion, willed to his family from his insane grandmother. This is the second time his drawings began to take on a life all of their own.

Chapter 7:

Drawing Me Under

Something snapped in Collin’s twisted-up mind, intertwining his thoughts like a poisonous vine grafting itself to its host. I have my drawings.

 

Collin scrambled for his sketch pad and climbed up the ladder to draw at his desk in the hideaway. Voices seeped into his thoughts: This life has nothing for you. You can create your own world, make up your own rules.

 

He turned the pages from the buildings he had once loved to draw and echoed the voices inside his head by drawing the images they were stirring up deep inside his soul—towering winged gargoyles that mutated into detestable, mangled-up creatures—and taking on a life of their own.

 

Sitting back in his chair, his eyes transfixed on the heavy charcoal and ink sketches.

 

Are the voices calling me to draw, or are the drawings calling to me? These drawings understand me better than anyone else.

 

“From now on, you will be the only ones I allow to see the real me,” he sputtered out to his creations, like gas to a spark. Collin’s chest began to burn raging from somewhere deep in his gut. He wiped away the hot tears and slowed his breath to calm himself. No one cared about him, much less loved him. So what? He didn’t need anyone. He had all he needed in his notebook.

 

A toxic smoldering inside of his soul caused him to crave drawing these mutated creatures, and his tainted inspirations were endless. He drew into them the dark powers he didn’t possess himself. Each one had its own distinctive malicious personality trait.

—————————————————————————————————————————

Our minds are the dwelling places that entertain the thoughts stewing around in our souls. What emotional seasonings are we allowing to flavor the pot? Collin has broken up bitterness and self-pity into bite sized pieces, digested them, and vomited them onto his sketch pad. He is creating rot that is blackening everything he touches.

 

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