Everything I Draw Wants to Kill Me

## Everything I Draw Wants to Kill Me

> When I started school at six, my teacher said ink painting was a way to express what was in your heart.

> Ten years later, during my exam, the ink hawk I drew suddenly turned and pecked at my eyes.

> “Your heart is lying,” the examiner said coldly.

> In that life-or-death moment, I suddenly remembered: right after asking that question all those years ago, my teacher had been poisoned.

> The green-scaled bracer peeking out from the examiner’s sleeve was the exact same color as my teacher’s fingernails when the poison took effect.