Okay, first fanfic. Hope you like it. Annabelle is in preschool in this.
Black Crayons
She always ran out of black crayons first. The box should hold two black crayons instead of just one like the other crayons, because they always ran out. Most of the other kids ran out of green and blue because of coloring the sky and grass in their drawings. She always uses the black crayon in all her pictures. Because her pictures always have the same thing. The black Truck.
Her teacher had commented on it, both to Annabelle and her parents, that all her pictures had the Truck. At first, her teacher had thought that it was kind of cute, but then she seemed a little confused.
Every picture she drew had the black Truck in it. Annabelle worked hard to draw it just right, because it was important. She was careful to stay in the lines when coloring. She looked in pride as Truck after Truck was pinned to the bulletin board next to pictures of trees and flowers and smiling faces.
Her teacher would sometimes request they draw something specific, like their house or the park. She would still put the black Truck in the picture somewhere. One time, she was supposed to draw an indoor view of her house. Her teacher had seemed so excited that her picture was Truck-free, until she saw the window. Annabelle had placed the Truck outside the window, because it was important.
Today, her teacher said to draw their best friend. Annabelle asked what she should do if she had more than one best friend. Her teacher explained told her to draw both then.
Annabelle took a piece of paper and stared at it. Suzy would be hurt if Annabelle did not draw her. After all, they did play at recess together and that is what best friends do in preschool. She just wasn't her only best friend.
Grasping a crayon with all the skill her young hands could muster, she dragged a line across her canvas. Now, with the sky and grass divided by her greatness, she began to populate her world with images from her imagination. Suzy's famous pigtails were carefully recreated onto a small stick figure. Two brown dots gave her creation sight and a grin matched the young artists, to show her friend was happy with her making. Now, the tiny stub of black crayon was selected.
As she brought her creation to her teacher, she was greeted with a look of confusion.
"Annabelle, I thought you said you were drawing two best friends."
Annabelle looked at her masterpiece. The form of Suzy stood on the empty landscape with only one other shape. The carefully drawn image of the black Truck, as painstakingly as designed as the girl. Her only response was a shrug.
The day came to an end, and her mom came to pick up the young child. Her mother praised her and the bulletin board covered in her prize Truck drawings. Annabelle was always proud of her drawings at school.
But she was even more proud of the ones at home, on the refrigerator.
Just like the ones at school, they all feature her precious black Truck. Every single one was carefully and lovingly drawn to the upmost of the young girl's skills.
However, in the pictures at home, he does not look like a truck anymore.
He has arms, legs, and a head. He has blue eyes. He has a name. Ironhide, her best friend.
Unlike the humans in her pictures, he is drawn as a series of rectangles and squares instead of mere lines. Her black crayon had drawn his form hundreds of times until she found a design that looked the most like him she could. She could even show his cannons, which took some practice to get right.
Her mom and dad had told her on the first day of preschool that Ironhide was a secret. She could not talk to her teacher or friends about him. She could not let anyone know or bad things could happen. Bad things could happen to Ironhide. Annabelle made sure that no one would ever hurt Ironhide, so all her pictures at school were him as a truck. He turns into a truck to hide from people, so in all her pictures at school he was hiding. That way no one would ever see him and hurt him.
At home, he was safe and did not have to hide. So at home, in her pictures, he did not have to hide.
When she got home, she grabbed a piece of paper and dashed to the table. She pulled out her box of crayons. Her face fell as she realized something she had forgotten.
She needs more black crayons.
Just a cute little piece about little Annabelle. Hope you like it.