Art is Love

Jean McAvory was a loner, she wasn't great with people; especially boys. So she draws the boys in which she dreams of dating, befriending, and merely talking to. One day she's sucked into her drawing, and the boy she drew resembles the jerk of her High School but here in the world she created he's sweet and sensitive. What happens when she can't return to reality?


1. Drawing Tate

I threw my school bag to the floor as I entered my bedroom. Kicking off my shoes I went straight to my drawing table. I had a bad encounter with the school jerk, Tate Bridges. I just started drawing him, the way I wished he would be to people, nice, caring, sensitive. I finished the drawing and whispered,


"I wish I could meet this Tate." I walked to my desk and started the many homework assignments. I fell asleep sometime later, I don't know when I woke up, but when I did I was in a different world. It was white besides the many gray sketches, flowers, boys, mostly boys and trees. It was a whole different world. Where was I? I roamed around and looked down at my own body, I wasn't in color, I was just like the many sketches roaming around me, and then I realized I was in my sketchbook. I looked around looking at the many boys that I've drawn over the years, many of them weren't very well constructed, and then I saw Tate, the newest drawing. He looked exactly like the human version of him, yet this one seemed entirely different than his human counterpart. I approached cautiously, afraid my depiction of kindness and niceness would go unnoticed and he'd be the same as his human form.


"Oh hello, you must be Jean." they could talk I realized, and Tate was talking to me.




"That would be me sweet cheeks." he was funny in this reality.


"Um, I don't suppose you know where we are do you?"


"Your sketchbook. Don't you remember your wish?"


"My wish? Oh you mean my wish to"


"Yes, unfortunately I don't know of a way to get you home."


"I don't know if I want to go home." I said.


"Well in that case let me show you around." I followed Tate towards the forest my seven year old self created. I smiled remembering the characters I drew to fill it. Then suddenly remembered the evil beast I drew to represent a bully I had back then. "Don't worry about the Melebeast. She's neutral now."


"How did you know?"


"Know what, what you were thinking?"




"You're my creator, therefore our minds are connected, I'm as nice and sensitive as you believe me to be."


I looked around at the world I had created and smiled. Finally I was in a world without bullying and without the pain of the real Tate Bridges. It was time for me, to have fun as this Creator.

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