《princess hershel ; l.s.》♡̷ one ♡̷

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little hershel, only in ninth grade. he was sat quietly in the corner of the hallway, sketching away in his sketch pad. he was working on his latest drawing, a princess named ella. ella was the new addition to his little world, known as the land of petunia. only because his favorite flower, of course, is a petunia.

"well, well. look who we have here. little hershel, all by himself. what's that in your hand? a sketch book? let me take a peek."

the moment little hershel looked up, his sketch pad was being ripped away from his hands, he let out a small cry.

"no, no! please give that back!"

the captor of his sketch pad laughed obnoxiously. "oh, little hershel. you're in high school and you draw princesses? why, i expected something better."

the shrill sound of paper ripping tore through hershel's ear drums. fat tears ran quickly down his face.

"please! stop it, it took me hours to draw those!"

little hershel's words are not heard over the sketch paper ripping and ripping. the boy covered his ears and continued to cry.

"there we are. i think that was enough damage. bye bye, little hershel. i had fun with your drawings."

the sketch book was then tossed carelessly on the hallway floor in front of little hershel. pages were torn and ripped apart.

all little hershel could do was look down and cry. wetting his good skirt.

so much for little hershel's good day.

//

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