Halima’s hands are itching to draw. She had a long day, and was tired. Drawing always helped her. She climbed the steps up to her room, not bothered by the emptiness in the house. Other than her 7-year-old brother, no one was home. Her parents were never home when she came back from school. Halima reached her door and pushed it open. The familiar smell of cinnamon and ginger with a hint of lemon hit her as she walked in. It was her special tea recipe, still sitting in a mug which she left on her desk when she was drawing the night before. She went to her shelf. It was filled with sketchpads , of all different colors. She could almost never keep them straight. She picked her green one, the one that had the word sketchpad sprawled all over it. It was her brand-new birthday present from her grandma, and she couldn’t wait to use it.

She picked her best colored pencils, sharpies, and a ruler. She knew what she was going to draw. She always did. Despite her good grades, Halima always daydreamed in school. If she had an idea, she drew that idea, no matter how absurd it was. Once, she drew a featherless peacock!

Today, she was going to draw a fire breathing dragon! The dragon was to destroy a kingdom, called Dorr. The kingdom of Dorr was set to be in flames! She opened her sketchpad and drew, and drew, and drew. When she was finished drawing, she started coloring. A perfect squared house, a bush with berries, flames, and a dragon! Such an exciting drawing! She finally finished! She loved it. But she was also tired.

She went downstairs to cut Zain some apples. She helped herself to a few too. She finished her last slice as she reached the top of the stairs. When she opened her door, for the second time that day, instead of an empty room, there stood a boy. The boy wore odd looking clothes, he reminded Halima of an elf!

The boy stared at her and said, “Come! Our kingdom is in flames!”

Halima recognized the boy. She had drawn him in her picture. Halima’s mind raced! This couldn't be true! But it was. The boy urged her once more, and she just couldn't resist. She grabbed her pencil, and an eraser, and took the boy’s outstretched hands. Halima closed her eyes, felt a warm sway of heat, almost like the fireplace downstairs when it was full of wood and full of fire, and found herself inside her drawing.

“Hurry!” He demanded.

Halima, swarmed by townspeople, drew picture after picture, object after object. Pails, buckets, wells, blankets, food, toys, books, dropped out of the air as she drew.

“We need more!” The townspeople said. Halima felt hopeless, until her eyes darted across to her eraser. It had fallen, out of her pocket, in the rush of her drawing. She suddenly had an idea!

“I know!” She said. “I’ll erase this mess!”

“Are you sure?” The boy said, “It’s quite dangerous.”

“I made this dragon, and I'm going to fix it!”

“Thank you," the boy said, his eyes full of admiration. “And good luck.” Halima ran toward the dragon, her creation! She screamed, something like a battle cry, but still her own soft voice remained. She grabbed the dragon’s tail, and from there, reached its head. She raised her eraser and fell to the ground! The dragon was stronger than she thought it would be! She tried again, and again, and again, each time with no progress. After so many attempts she wanted to give up. But thinking about the townspeople, and the sad, scared, and worried looks on their faces, she remembered how Prophet Mohammad always cared for people, how he never left anyone behind, and how he always helped the needy. Halima knew what she had to do.

“Bismillah,” she whispered to herself. She grabbed the dragon's tail just as it swept low. She struggled, and yet, she climbed higher, and higher, and erased its mouth! The fire stopped. She then climbed down and erased its tail, its wings, its legs, until there was nothing more to erase.

“Alhamdulillah!” The townspeople shouted. Now the looks on their faces no longer resembled sad, scared, or worried, but happy, glad, and strong! They quickly began to hang up banners and pull out tables. Within minutes, everyone was ready to feast. They offered her food and gifts, but Halima couldn't accept anything, “Thank you, but I must get home.”

“Do you want me to help you get back?” the boy asked.

“Yes please,” Halima replied. She closed her eyes, felt the warmth, and found herself in her bedroom, safe and sound. Her hands hurt, so she collapsed on her bed, closed her eyes, and thought of what to draw next, clutching the green sketchpad, with the word Sketchpad, sprawled all over it. She felt different. Something in her had changed, and she knew it. Was she kinder, more caring? No, this feeling was something else, perhaps, she was more brave, bolder. She let out a sigh, longing and hoping for more exciting and tiring adventures like this one. She set her sketchpad on her drawer, the one that led her to an amazing journey! Inside that sketchpad, on the very first page, stroke by stroke, color by color, shape by shape, laid the kingdom of Dorr, with the townspeople all happy and glad. That night, when Halima went to bed, she had a marvelous dream. She was riding atop a tiger, with the Eiffel tower standing in the background. And that morning when she woke up, she knew exactly what she was going to draw next.

THE END