Thumbnail sketches of a piece I meant to complete for day 1 of willet week but never did because I suck.

Day 1: "Letters to You"

 Day 1: Letters to you

Just a normal summer evening...

Day 6 of Willet Week

Like on many Summer Days, the Parr family barbecues, but this time, they're having a guest...after all, it's not every day that you meet your daughter's boyfriend for the first time!

Two pieces of concept art mixed together - I'm still trying to figure out editing!

I just suck at life. Why is writing so hard? Why am I so corny?

You Found Me

She was lost, and confused, and scared.

  Biting her lip, tears welled up in the dark blue eyes of the young five year old.

  She had gone to far, preoccupied by the many flowers that shared her name planted in a secluded and somewhat far off area of the park. Not many people went this way, a dense line of trees surrounding the area, almost warding others away from the quiet garden.

  As she felt her body slowly fade away out of visibility, her mind randomly drifted to the other day where she remembered seeing a moving truck at the house that had been empty up the hill. It was a big house and she wondered if she would ever find out who lived there now that she was lost.

  “Your arms are missing,” a young voice simply pointed out.

  Startled, the partially hidden young girl became fully invisible except for her clothes that now seemed to be floating by themselves in the air. Looking around, she found the source of the voice.

  He was a boy, about her age with dark hair in a swirl that seemed to defy gravity. He looked at her, or at least the area where he thought her face was at, expectantly.

  When she realized he wasn’t going to leave, she was able to calm herself down enough that she became fully visible. He grinned when he was fully insight before grabbing her hand and tugging her out of the garden. She was so startled that she couldn’t think of anything to say as his small hand held hers.

  It didn’t take long before she heard her name being called by her mother, the woman catching sight of the two young children before she ran up to them, a mixture of relief, worry, and slight frustration on her face.

  “Where have you been?” her mother asked.

Why did Mr. Chou have to assign so much homework?

This wasn’t the first time I had to stay up late finishing one of his heinous assignments. I have spent hours on this paper and I still haven’t reached the 5,000 word minimum.

I take a break to gaze out my window and catch Wilbur Robinson next door. He is up, as always, tinkering with anything he can get his hands on. He’s deep in thought, carefully taking apart the alarm clock that sits on his desk. The faint glow of the desk lamp reveals the contours of his hunched over body while shadows dance across his face with every movement.

Every night we spend hours up together, stealing glances as the other works on their latest project, but we have never gotten past that.  I noticed a moving truck yesterday and his mom going through a checklist for his dorm… I guess we will never get past these silent nights, separated by a low lying hedge that divides our lawns.

Minutes begin to drag on and the words that fueled my paper now trickle to a stop as my eyes begin to grow heavy. I prop up my head up with my arm; I’ll just close my eyes for five minutes then get back to work.

Just as I was slipping into sleep, I heard a light tap on my window. I groggily turned to my window expecting it to be a loose branch, but instead there was a shadow of a lean boy with a distinct cowlick.

At the sight of Wilbur Robinson outside my window I hastily fix my hair, as best as one can when half asleep.

What was he doing here?

He notices me, flashes one of those award winning smiles I have only seen when he gets an idea and beckons me to come outside. I nod and he runs into the forest of trees behind my house.

Still in shock, I follow him, barely remembering to put on my shoes, into the dark forest that connects our backyards.

Before I can process all that has happened I am engulfed with branches and leaves. The forests that connect our lawns have always been off limits but tonight neither of us cares.

After following the sound of Wilbur’s footsteps we enter a clearing. In the center of the clearing lay two blackest meticulously placed there with little rocks holding the corners in place. Wilbur glides over to one of the blankets and lays down on it. His lean body stretches almost the length of the blanket. With his worn out jeans stained with motor oil and those old converse that have seen better days, Wilbur looks at peace laying in the forest gazing up at the stars.

With sweep of his arm and a slight pat of the neighboring blanket, he invites me to lay with him.

I hesitantly accept his offer and lay next to him. I look up and see the shining dots sprinkling the night sky. We sit together staring at the stars and thinking out loud about what lies beyond. Our voices lull to an almost comfortable silence, both of us drinking in the view.

Wilbur shifts; I turn to him and see that he has gotten up. He is now hovering over me, arm extended and iPod peaking out of his pocket.

What was he doing?

I grab his calluses hands and he helps me up. He takes out his iPod and sheepishly offers me an ear bud. I take it and hear The Only Exception By: Paramore. Wilbur makes a show of bowing and then takes my arms before I can refuse.

I look up and catch him blushing as his hands brush, ever so slightly, over my hips. He must be as nervous as I am. I realize how close we are and my cheeks are set a flame. The slight hint of cologne pulls me in, but I keep my distance. Not daring to close the small space between us.

Once we settle into the rhythm of the music, I gain the courage to look back up at him. His brown eyes sparkle under the moonlight while light flecks of yellow dance along with our swaying bodies. The little traces of wrinkles that have creased in his forehead, the way my head reached just below his neck and even the way his unruly cowlick sits perfectly atop his head. Wilbur enchanted me.

He’s looking at me, studying my every move. He has the same face he does when he is in deep thought. The same face I’ve seen tinkering with little gadgets late at night, taking apart every little piece and figuring out why it is important to the whole. Through his eyes I can see the gears turning as he dissects me. His eyes taking me apart, piece by piece, and, with that slight smirk spreading across his face, realizes how I am important to the whole.

About halfway through the song I feel him pull me closer, eliminating the space between us. My heart begins to race and before I even realize what’s going on, my head is resting in the crevice of his neck. And my cheeks are aflame once again.

As the song goes on, my shoulders begin to soften and I find the soothing rhythm of Wilbur’s heart, pumping blood through his body and creating enough warmth for the both of us.

As Hayley Williams’ voice softens and the song begins to fade, I feel Wilbur shift his weight. We are facing each other again. Only this time, he is holding my shoulders. His eyes look sad, almost on the verge of tears. He cranes his neck downward and our foreheads are connected.

 “I wish I could stay here, with you, forever. I am leaving for college in the morning. I’m sorry it took me so long to do this.”

Our lips brush and it’s as if electricity has surged through my body.

It was gone as fast as it came.

He was now running back into the darkness of the forest.

I was left alone, longing for Wilbur’s presence once more. A cloud covered the faint moonlight coming through the trees and I was left in the faint shadow of the night. The last words of the song filling my ears: