The Lost Boy

Sketching

I sat down in my English class. This by far was my favorite class, not only for the reason that I loved to write, but also because I loved the teacher. Her name was Mrs. Lallen, she knew how to make everything better without even trying. She just knew what we faced at our age, and used everything she knew to help us deal with it. Today I knew this is exactly what I needed to get my head straight.

"Hello class, how is everyone doing today?" She asked as she passed out what looked to be a worksheet. Great not exactly what I thought we would be doing today. When I got the paper I looked at it there was nothing on it. What was going on? It was just a blank sheet of printer paper. "I want everyone to close their eyes." She was walking around the room. "I do not want anyone to talk. Pick up your pencils and just start drawing what you see in your mind. I know that this is not art class, but just do it." She paused as I set my pencil on the paper. "Do not think about what you are sketching, just sketch it until I say stop." Before I knew it my hand was moving making a picture that I was not sure would not just be scribbles on a piece of paper. "Take deep breaths as you do this. Just let everything that is bothering you fall on the piece of paper, no rush." She continued to walk around the room as my hand continued to draw whatever it was drawing. "Now stop drawing, but keep your eyes closed. Continue your deep breathing." I sat up straight up and breathing in and out. "Now open your eyes and look at your drawing."

"Wow." the girl next to me said. "I thought I was just scribbling, but it is a picture of my mom." I continued to look down at my picture.

"What did you draw James?" she said as she smiled at the girl next to me.

"A picture of my brother, I think." He said with a little laughed.

"Good." Mrs. Lallen stated, "Now I want everyone to pull out a piece of paper and I want you to write a page on what you drew and why you think you drew it." I was still looking at my drawing. A tear fell on the paper as I wiped my eye. "When you get done please staple it together and set on my desk." She was still walking around and looking at the pictures that everyone had drawn when she stopped at my desk, and put her hand on my shoulder. I closed my eyes wishing that the picture in front of me would disappear, but when I opened them again there it was a picture of my brother laying on an old porch dead. I knew it was the house in my dream.