Oakley spent most of his free time sketching in his notebook. He filled page after page with his intricate drawings, sometimes even skipping lunch to work on them. His parents didn't quite understand his obsession with drawing, but they were supportive nonetheless. They encouraged him to enter art contests, and even framed some of his best pieces and hung them up in their living room.
One day, Oakley's art teacher, Mrs. Diaz, announced that there was going to be a school-wide art contest, and the winner would have their artwork displayed in the local museum. Oakley's heart raced at the thought of having his artwork showcased for the whole world to see.
He went home that day and immediately started working on his submission. He drew a scene of a mystical forest, with towering trees and luminescent mushrooms. He added in some of his signature creatures, a few of them peeking out from behind the foliage. Oakley spent hours perfecting every detail, his hand a blur as he brought his vision to life on the page.
When he was finished, he took a step back to admire his work. It was the best thing he'd ever drawn, he was sure of it. He carefully placed it in his backpack, feeling a sense of pride and excitement that he'd never felt before.
The day of the contest arrived, and Oakley's stomach was in knots. He sat at his desk, fidgeting nervously as he waited for Mrs. Diaz to call his name. The other kids' artwork was impressive, but Oakley couldn't help feeling like his drawing was the best.
Finally, it was his turn to present his artwork. He walked up to the front of the classroom, his hands shaking slightly as he held up his sketchbook. Mrs. Diaz smiled at him encouragingly, and Oakley took a deep breath before flipping to the page with his drawing.
There was a murmur of awe from the other kids in the class as they saw Oakley's artwork. Even Mrs. Diaz seemed impressed, which was saying something, since she was notoriously hard to please.
A few days later, the winner was announced over the intercom. Oakley held his breath as the principal read out the name of the winning artist. And then he heard it - his own name. He'd won the contest!
Oakley was practically floating as he walked to school the next day. He'd never felt so proud of himself. He couldn't wait to tell his parents and show them the news article about the contest that he was sure would be in the local paper.
As he walked into the classroom, Oakley saw that there was a crowd gathered around his desk. They were all looking at his sketchbook, which had been left open to the winning drawing.
Oakley felt a sinking feeling in his stomach. He realized with horror that he'd accidentally left his sketchbook in the classroom the day before, and anyone could have looked through it.
One of the kids looked up at Oakley and sneered. "What's wrong, Kamel? Can't handle a little bit of attention?"
Oakley felt tears welling up in his eyes. He grabbed his sketchbook and ran out of the classroom, desperate to get away from the stares and whispers of his classmates.
As he sat alone on a bench outside, Oakley wondered if winning the contest had been worth it after all. He loved his art, but he hated feeling like a freak, like he didn't belong. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of doubt creeping in. Maybe he was just a weird kid who drew strange pictures. Maybe he'd never fit in anywhere.
But then, as he looked down at his sketchbook, he saw something
