A Sketchy Situation

Journal 56In this chapter I am introducing Collin (The protagonist) to his creation. Depending on how you view this from a psychological viewpoint or supernatural perspective (It is entirely up to the reader’s to decide), his black and white drawings come alive. Even though they are only 2 dimensional, they still talk and strike fear into Collin and his sister. In earlier chapters Collin has been drawing his greedy uncle into a creature trying to work out his unresolved anger and hurt from this scary old man who has been the root of his own father’s coldness.

Chapter 17:

“A Sketchy Situation”


Deep-throated wheezing vibrated the twigs under Collin’s ears. His eyes flickered awake, and his heart began racing. Springing up and squinting his eyes past his brain fog, the teen tried to dial into what was making that hideous sound. He sat completely still, straining his ears. It sounded like a dying old man breathing through built-up mucus.

There it was! Collin’s eyes caught a glimpse of a beastly silhouette crawling in front of the torchlight, making it blink. A shiver trickled down his back as if ice had been dropped down his shirt. The shadowy, round form filled up the whole space inside the tunnel, blocking the cave’s entrance. Eight elongated black hooks tiptoed down into the pit toward where Collin had been sleeping.

Collin’s face contorted, and he flailed his head back and forth, with damp hair sticking to the side of his face. His bruised arms ached from being pulled and dragged the night before, and his legs quivered under his weight. He looked down at the twig bed for a better hiding place. Bile shot up his throat at what the torchlight exposed. His “bed” was held together by sticky white fibers that covered gangrenous and half-devoured, bloated carcasses. Human arms and limbs were strewn about, mixed with huge rubies and emeralds, gold and silver coins sticking out of the thick white webbing.

He had been sleeping in that creature’s nest. Collin cupped his hands too late as bile spewed out among the pungent odor of death that oozed from where he stood. He backed away. A rubbery hand reached up from a pile of bones on the edge of the nest and snatched his foot. Then the dying hand lost its strength and released Collin, but not before the boy tripped backwards, landing on his butt. Collin arched his body up on his hands and feet. The teen’s fingers had poked into decomposing flesh. He crawled in reverse like a madman until he reached the edge of the creature’s nest. His whole body trembled like a struck bell, but he strained and twisted until he pulled himself up.

Don’t think about it, don’t picture it, just get out!

Stepping over a decaying skill to hop over the edge, he crouched out of sight of the beast. The ominous creature continued its methodical descent. The disgusting, mucus-filled snorting of the monster’s breath accompanied its drool, which spattered even to where Collin hid. It stopped dead in its tracks, looming over the trembling teen. Collin let out  a barely audible gasp as he stared into the face of his own creation. The repulsive features on the creature’s face were undeniably those of his greed uncle, but the eyes where milky white. The body was in every intricate detail that of the black widow spider he had “trapped” his uncle in. His sadistic drawing had come to life.

What kind of hell have I gotten myself into? He searched his mind for some sort of reasonable explanation but found none. He was trapped in a nightmare his own imagination had provided. His uncle’s face drew a devilish smirk, showing a few of his mangled teeth, as the spider spoke. “Where are you, Collin?” You sniveling little puke. I can smell you’re close. . .fear puts off a great odor. I used to smell it on those poor businessmen just before I devoured their livelihoods. I also sucked the heart and soul out of your dad, leaving him as only a shell of a man.”

Collin, crouching low to the ground, began convulsing uncontrollably.


Sometimes the fears we must face are the very ones we created ourselves. You’ve probably heard the saying, “You’ve made your bed now sleep in it.” In Collin’s situation the ‘bed’ he made to sleep in was volatile. It is so hard at times to unearth what is buried beneath, in the depths of our hearts. We must discover what is there before we can clean it out. I have learned in life we can either grab a shovel and start trying to dig our way out, or ask for help.

Jesus knocked on my hearts door over 20 years ago and asked to come inside to do the work for me. When I asked Him for His credentials He shared with me how He created me, formed me in my mother’s womb, and then He gave His life willingly so I can experience true life and Joy to the fullness that He intended. Needless to say I gave Him the messy job. He not only cleaned out all of my hurts and addictions, He filled my heart with Joy, peace, and a confidence in who I am. Sometimes the two-dimensional monsters of fear and hurts come around but because I know who I am I can truly laugh at them and blow them away.


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Filed under Charisma Speaks, Inspirations

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