A friend, a helper

In between her fingers was a pencil and her eyes were on a canvas and she was drawing on it. Her hands shook a little but she wasn’t paying any attention to it, she was focused on her drawing, so keen to make meaning out of what she was drawing.

A man in a white coat was behind her with his arms folded and watching her draw.

“What are you getting this time.”

“What I can remember, it’s what I’m drawing.”

He moved away from behind her and went to her side, he stared into the drawing on the canvas.

“Is that supposed to be a girl?” He could tell because of her long hair which she colored gold.

“It is?” She asked him, she stared at him with her brown eyes, and was unique each time he stared at them, he could see some traces of faint blue in the eyes.

“Yes.” He told her and pat her hair.

“You’re probably getting some of your memories back.”

“Please don’t hurt me!” She clasped her hands together, and the pencil she held fell from her hands as she cried.

He let go of her hair.

“I’m n