Dragons

I used to draw dragons in a little notebook of mine. They were always so pretty. I was constantly complimented on my artistic skills. I still have that little notebook. It's in a box in the back of my small apartment. Sometimes I'm reminded of the dragons, but I'm to focused on my everyday life to be concerned.

*FLASHBACK*

I was sitting on my bed, merely a curtain deviding mine and my older sister's bedroom in half. My notebook was open and my pencils sharpened. I was just about to push the pencil to the thin sheet of paper when the door burst open and in came my sister. She tore the curtain aside and flopped on her bed. I stared at her curiously, debating on weather or not to go talk to her.

"Jessie, are you okay?" I asked quietly. She sat up on her bed, her back leaning against the wall. She glared at me.

"I'm fine." she answered. Why would she say she's fine if she obviously isn't?

"Jess-"

"Dad and Mom keep telling me to grow up! Don't they understand, I'm only sixteen! I mean, I never go to parties, I always finish my homework and shit, so why do they keep telling me this!" She cried. As soon as she finished my father burst into the bedroom. I quickly ducked my head and started drawing. Next thing i knew, my notebook was being taken from underneath me, leaving a large pencil line across the paper. i shot a dirty glare at my father, who was grunting dissaprovingly at my art.

"Both you girls need to grow up. Look at these stupid drawings! Get ahold of reality and stop drawing your...creatures!" he yelled, throwing my notebook on the ground. I was quick to gather it up.

"They're dragons!" i yelled back, clutching my drawings to my chest.

"Look, Jay, if you wanna draw, try drawing something realistic, okay? I'm sorry, honey, but I think you should let go of these silly fantasies."

"What? They're dragons, not fantasies!" Tears streamed my face. he picked up my latest creation posted up on my wall, and ripped it in half. Each rip felt like a thousand little needles punching my heart. Those dragons were my everything.

*PRESENT DAY*

I took one of the many notebooks i had laying around and sat down on the couch that wasn't yet placed in it's rightful position on the hardwood floor. Moving sucked. I started to draw the face of my dear sister. Her beautiful smoky eyes, her long, curly brown hair, her perfectly rounded face. How I missed her. I ripped the page out of the notebook, held back my tears, and crumpled it. in stead, i took out my paintset and glared at the empty white walls. A smile krept over my face. This was going to be exciting.

Sometimes I worry about my dragons. Should I go back to drawing them? What if they've all been slayed? As we grow, we let go of magic, simply for some truth. But once in a while, it's okay to believe.