It was sharp, and left behind thick or thin scrawls of black. The questions, the answers, and the talent all showcased onto slips of paper. The dialogue just as fine-pointed as the pen, but then again all things witty dull with age.
Or so this story goes, that is.
With a firm hand, and patience, anything can be created. But make sure not to do it out of scorn, praise or carelessness. It is unwise to believe in anything with drives like these.
Though, careless stacks of ideas covered with wounding slashes piled upon a desk, is not the way to go about telling your story. The room was small, but the imagination expanded far further than the walls allowed in reality. The light was flickering, a lamp buzzed beside the desk on top of the chair.
The floor was covered in a large purple blanket, and underneath wooden planks doused with splotches of ink. A few creaks here and there as a sudden quiet filled that work station.
"Now, this," She lowered the pen down to curious eyes, "Is very important." Rolling it into her palm and out of the pinch of her fingers she continues, "It's what makes everyone move, and talk." She said with a smile, before a blur of purple snatched said pen out of her grasp. With wide eyes and quick movements, the little girl at her side began to shake the pen vigorously up and down.
"And is not to be taken for granted."
Gently placing hands over the child's, she settled the girls frantic gestures. "Momma, can you make them dance and sing again?"
Staring down at her little girl, she broke out into a grin. The little girl mirroring her Rosy cheeked smile.
"Sure, pumpkin."
Rising to a stand, her daughter's happy giggles making her chuckle too. Eyeing her desk, she glared heatedly at the piles upon piles of rejected character designs. The orange notebook hidden underneath a particular stack of ideas caught her eye. Slowly pulling it out, her heart leaped into her throat as the tower wobbled precariously, until it tipped too far forward, in her direction, and she stepped back in surprise. Her ankle caught in the blankets, just as the tower came down.
"Momma, are you okay?.."
There was a thin layer of drawn on sheets covering her lap, and it wasn't as terrifying as she would have thought. Grumbling to herself, she began picking everything hiding purple from her view. "I'm fine, pumpkin."
After that, there was only the sound of shuffling papers. There was a gasp, and she swiveled her head to face the noise. Only to see her daughter pointing at a drawing right side up.
"Momma, momma!" She crawled over the papers, not minding the crunch as several tore or crinkled. Her mother's face winced at the sounds, before a picture was shoved in her face. "Look! Look! Eddy!" She pushed it out of her nose, and in the tight hands of her daughter, almost wadded up in her excitement.
The drawing wasn't one of the best, but had the same features.
"Eddy?…" She questioned, scooping papers and making a place for them to sit comfortably as the little girl went on.
"Yeah! It's him! It's Eddy! The one you can make move!"
With an exaggerated sigh, she pushes papers into the trash bin, having no where else to put them. "That's Bendy, sweetie."
She tilted her head in confusion, and pouted. "No, Eddy." She pouted up at her mother who tried not to laugh. Moving beside her daughter, she nodded at the drawing. That was one of the latest versions.
"Okay then… 'Eddy'," She dug out the orange notebook that caused an avalanche, and opened it up to the first page. "Is what I've been drawing for a long time. And because it's been so long, no one likes him drawn this way anymore."
Since this was brand new, she was going to use it for her own ideas.
To collect and perfect her creations, to bring her ideas to life with Animation.
"I like it, Momma. He's really funny." She said with a giggle, kicking her feet around.
Ruffling her strawberry blonde hair, she shook her head at her childs words.
"Thank you, pumpkin."
That was her dream. To put her ideas on the big screen.
And now, when she finally has it in her grasp, it's thrown away because of someone elses carelessness.
"Momma look!" And yet again, another drawing was shoved in her face, but this time it wasn't her own.
It was torn in the middle, probably from her pressing too hard, and the body took up more than half the page. Not to mention the horns were too spread apart.
Holding the orange notebook in her hands, she rubbed away blotches of ink.
It was beautiful.
"Momma, can you please, please, please make Eddy move again!"
She decided that this would be her daughter's notebook, to make up her world, and create her own stories.
"Alright, calm down… It's getting close to your bedtime, and we always end the day with Eddy giving us a smile, right?"
She nodded, happily, clapping her hands. "Right!"
She would protect it with everything she had.
Her world may have been broken long ago, and her pen may have dulled from the years, but she can still keep her safe from the anger and judgemental nature's of people.
The book closed in her hand, and the scratching of the pen darting along the paper fluently from practice. Extra paper was every where, all you had to do was flip it.
With a thin stack of papers in her hands, she lifted the end, and her daughter leaned in excitedly.
A figure appeared from the right side of the paper, and with a large contagious smile, waved at the 'audience' as he stopped to stand in the middle. Before he suddenly stopped after bowing, words scrawled above his head.
With a circle, they were encased in a bubble.
"Dreams do come true"