Drawer's Block
"No no . . ." I muttered to myself as I erased the light line and gave it a more curved motion. I finished the mark and held back the picture.
"Arrg!!" I yelled and crumpled it into a ball. I threw it into the trash with the numerous other pictures that I had tried to draw earlier.
"I don't know why you have to crumple them up so much. I bet they're not even bad," Chloe said from the doorway.
"You wouldn't understand," I moaned from my bed as I put away my sketchpad and pencil. That was my sixth try tonight to get it right.
"Whatever," she said before she walked back to her room.
I flopped back and stared at the ceiling. I don't know why I had to get it perfect, but I did. Anything less would be an insult to . . . to . . . my friend; my friend, whom I miss and am inexplicably upset with. Every time I try to draw him in detail it just seems off somehow. I remember most of everything fine now; only some of the latter things are still foggy. I'm the only one that does now. I wonder-
"Robin, you have school tomorrow. It's time for bed," my mom yelled from the living room.
I was still for a moment before I rolled over and turned out the lights, hoping that the picture would stop bugging me enough to get a few hours sleep.
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"It's very nice Robin, but I don't understand what made you draw Mr. Count that way," my art teacher said in a confused voice. I gave up on drawing him and decided to try my luck at the others. I put the last finishing stroke with my charcoal on the canvas and took a step back to admire my work. Unlike the others this one seemed to encompass everything the Count was.
I drew him on his throne laying sideways across it with a goblet of blood in one had smiling a fanged evil smile but had a big cartoony stuffed bat in the other. He was wearing his formal attire that he wore at the hunt ball without a speck of blood anywhere on him; he was the count after all. The room had bodies littering the ground with just the barest hint of a ruffled apron from Reinfeild disappearing off to the side. It encompassed everything evil about the count while still hinting at the childish side that would show at random moments.
I'd have to ask Chloe to take it home. The more outgoing bullies came back since I had a distinct lack of friends and I didn't want the picture to get damaged.
"I don't know," I said finally answering the teacher, "I think it suits him."
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I finished Ingrid a couple weeks later. The picture was on stiff paper with prisma colors. This time it was in a grassy field with numerous bodies around her and a fire or two in the background. She stood with the full moon as her only backdrop dripping blood from her mouth and hands. Instead of the evil grin that she usually had on though, she had a brokenhearted look on her face and was crying blood red tears.
I saw her at the hunt ball. She tried to save mom when she gave her the necklace. I even saw her cry when Will was vaporized. She had helped Vlad on more than one occasion and kept the bullies away from him, and consequently myself as well. No, she was nowhere near as heartless as she wanted to appear. None of them were really. It was like they were the black sheep of the vampire world or something. Regardless, I put the last finishing touches of red in the black and white picture and made sure that her tears were a deep, solid color. I put my signature in the bottom corner; a big 'R' and a wing, before I put the lid back on the pencils and put the pencils and sketchpad away for the night.
I got into bed with a sense of satisfaction that I was able to capture the count and Ingrid so easily. The nagging thought of why I couldn't complete the trio kept poking at my mind long into the night.
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I stared out at he castle as I nursed my newest 'gifts' from Chad and his friends. They still slightly smarted but the shadows under my eyes hid the shiner I would get and the others weren't that bad.
I wasn't really all that close to it, and I seriously debated on trying to go up to the door and see if Renfield would let me in. I could almost imagine walking into the dining room and seeing the count trying to teach Vlad something vampire related while Vlad tried his best without really trying.
I sighed though and banished the thought from my head. I started unpacking my supplies to help take my mind of the thought. Vlad erased my memory and probably didn't mean for me to get it back. He probably doesn't want me wandering around the castle anymore. I sighed again and sunk to the ground. I crossed my legs and got my sketchpad situated on my lap. This time I just drew the shadows on the castle and let my mind focus on not trying to draw the castle itself. I stayed there for hours letting my mind only focus on the sketch and even forgot about the still smarting bruises.
My watch alarm went off and nearly made me tear a gash through the page. I looked around and noticed that it was barely light out. I packed my things back up and looked up at the castle. I might've seen something move in the tower window but it was probably just a shadow or something. I turned back down the path and studied the picture. It was pretty good; you had to keep looking at it to see what it actually was, like the castle itself. I nodded to myself as I decided that I was going to hang it up somewhere in my room. I paused and tilted my head to try to listen to the might be noise that I heard, but shrugged it off. I was already well away from the castle and continued home.
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I was back at square one again, audibly growling at my sketchbook. I was on my third attempt and was already getting frustrated. I could still draw people, using the word loosely, so why couldn't I draw him. I knew more about him than the others and their pictures turned out perfect. I placed my sketchbook on my desk and started to just reminisce about the good times. That soon led to brooding though about why he didn't want to be my friend anymore. He was the only real friend I had, and the fact that he was a mythical creature and he expected me to just forget about everything never failed to piss me off.
Since this wasn't helping me in feeling better I got under the blankets and turned over to turn off the light. Even though it was early I fell asleep quickly and let all the thoughts drain from my head.
"Okay class, for the end of the semester project, you will have the last five weeks to make either one art piece or a collection. You must make sure that it has a clear and concise point that anyone can understand by looking at it. Any media is available, just come and ask me. So, get to doing."
As soon the teacher finished talking everyone started discussing what they were going to do. I sat at my table and thought. This was going to be my last one. I wasn't going to waste any more sketch papers on this stupid nagging thought. By the end of this week, I am going to have a sketch of him.
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I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO! I've tried to do sketches but they turn out even worse than before. It's like I don't even know him anymore. It doesn't help that the bullies have gotten even worse. Now I can't even leave the building without them – crap.
"Robin, were you trying to go without saying goodbye?" Chad said in a mocking voice.
"I really don't get how this is enjoyable to anyone involved," I said as I tried to get back into the building. All they did was laugh and come closer. At least if I got beat up I wouldn't get the sun in my eyes since it was about to rain. As soon as they were in arms length of me I tried to get away but one of them grabbed my shoulder and pushed me into their leader. After that it was just a barrage of different fists and feet all over my body.
I was able to lean myself up against the wall while they took a break to see what they've done. My eyesight was going in and out and I could only really see the knees down of my attackers. Then in between the legs of one of them I saw a dark pair of jeans and white pair of tennis shoes. I must have faded out again because in a moment the laughter stopped and they were all passed out on the ground.
The dark pair of jeans and white tennis shoes were right next to me now and were leaning down. He was speaking and it finally clicked on who it was. I tried to laugh because he was finally acting like he was supposed to, mostly anyway. I was hurting to much though and I could only manage a smile.
"Robin . . . " he said in a voice that I was too tired to interpret. I gave a quiet little laugh before I passed out.
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"Honey, are you sure that you should be up and about right now?" my mother asked worriedly.
"I'm fine mom, they're just bruises." I ignored the numerous amounts of gauze on my arms and the scabs on my legs. The nurse said that some boy ran in and got her and brought her out to where we were. In the shock of seeing six unconscious boys on the ground he was able to slip away. Oddly, she wasn't able to remember anything about him.
Something good came out of being beaten to a bloody pulp at least. Not only were the twins acting nicer to me, but I had Chloe bring back my frame and canvas from art class. Seeing him again reminded me who my friend was. I was finally able to figure out what I was going to draw.
I had the canvas sitting in my room, my mom even bought me an easel. I was already half way done with the black and white pencil portrait. In another week or two I would be able to bring it in for my grade . . . and then do something with it. Maybe I could – no, better wait to at least Christmas.
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"Ohh, come look Vlad, the mailman left us some packages. There's one for each of us . . . and Ingrid." My dad got all excited when Renfield finally brought the three packages in. Two of them were pretty big while the third was only in a large envelope. The largest one was addressed to me while the other two were addressed to my father and sister, my sister getting the smallest.
Even she came down when she heard that she got something. We all looked at each other before we started opening the packages carefully. It was still to close to the crowning ceremony incident for us to blindly trust in anything.
When I opened the box a letter floated down to the floor before I caught it. It was just a folded piece of paper. I opened it and felt my jaw drop.
Hey Vlad, hope you guys like your gifts. I didn't know what I was going to do with them, so I figured that you guys could think of something. Yours took me a long time do, and it still isn't finished. One of these days I'll drop by to finish painting it. See ya then :)
"What's this!?" Ingrid questioned loudly when she finally opened her envelope. It was a picture of Ingrid after a fight except that she was staring at the moon crying red tears.
"You're complaining? Just be thankful that you got that, and not this monstrosity," dad said after he was able to get his package out. His turned out to be a huge canvas with a scene that resembled Ingrid's, though the huge stuffed bat that the count was holding on to was a major difference. They were complaining quite loudly about their pictures, though I noticed that they were both treating them with care and weren't throwing them away. I smiled a little before I focused my attention on my own package. When I finally did get it out, I was surprised all over again.
It was a large piece of canvas that had a simple wooden frame, though the picture was something else. It was me sitting in my father's chair with the crown and a sceptre in a pair of black pants and t-shirt with something like a cross between a smirk and a smile on my face. Sitting on the left armrest was a slightly see through me wearing the clothes that I used to wear before I became a full vampire with a smile. On the right armrest there was also a slight translucent me but he was in a full vampiric ensemble wearing a evil grin that could rival dads. In the corner was the same signature that was on the other two pictures, a curly R drawn over a bird wing. I just stood there and stared at it and let the implications come to me.
Sure, he was a pretty gothic kid before I met him. I just assumed that he came up to castle because it looked like a place where vampires would live. He even stopped wearing the cloak, though he still wore the leather trench coat the few times he came here. Then there was that time when he saw me and he kind of smiled and laughed before he fell over, but none of that meant he remembered! This was pretty obvious though; he even signed it with his signature.
Ingrid finally huffed over her portrait and left the room with dad a little bit behind, with just as much noise. I couldn't hold back the smile when I saw that they took the pictures with them. I looked down at my own before something in the note nagged at my brain. I had to read it again before the last line finally registered. I couldn't quite place the feeling that welled up inside of me when I read that. It was somewhere in between exasperation because Robin still couldn't grasp the concept of self-preservation and a fuzzy feeling because he remembered and still wanted to be my friend. I was just about to go up to my room until the castle pulled my eyes towards the window.
When I looked out and down I could see him setting up his sketchpad again. The moment was to go to pass up. I went up to my room and got a pen and paper before I breezed out of the castle and to where Robin was. I was already back in my room before Robin even knew I was there. I still couldn't risk being around humans completely yet, but it's the thought that counts.
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I got so into doing another sketch of the castle that I didn't even realize that it got dark. As soon as I packed up everything and turned around I nearly dropped it again. On the ground was a folded piece of paper with a blood red and curly 'Thanks'. I bent down and picked it up. I smiled a face splitting grin before I turned around and waved at the castle. I nearly skipped down the path at how happy I was.
I had my friend back and he wasn't angry with me. Not to mention that if I got him to show up at school a couple more times my bully problem would be over for good; all in all, a good ending to a good day.