The Boy Who Drew the Stars

Liam was not like the other kids in his town. He didn’t play football or race his bike in the streets. Instead, he liked quiet places, soft light, and the sound of a pencil moving across paper. His favorite spot was his small desk by the window, where he would sit for hours under the warm yellow light of his old desk lamp.

Every night, Liam opened his sketchbook and began to draw. But he didn’t draw trees or houses or animals. He drew stars. He drew planets, strange creatures, floating cities, and doorways in the sky. In his mind, space was not cold and empty. It was full of color, light, and stories waiting to be told.

Liam didn’t know why he felt this pull toward the stars, but it was something deep inside him — like a whisper in the dark. He could feel it in his chest, like a small light spinning quietly just below his heart.

One rainy evening, as the wind tapped gently on the window, Liam sat down to draw again. He was working on a picture of a glowing spiral galaxy when something unusual happened. The lines on his page began to shimmer. The stars in his drawing blinked like real ones. The soft light in his chest began to glow brighter than ever before.

Suddenly, the room grew quiet. Everything around him faded away — the walls, the lamp, the rain — until he was sitting in a space filled with blue mist and swirling light.

And then, in front of him, something floated into view.

It was a face. His own face. But it wasn’t just a reflection. It was alive, glowing softly, with eyes full of wonder.

“Who... who are you?” Liam asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“I’m your imagination,” the glowing figure replied with a gentle smile. “I’ve always been with you. Every time you draw, every time you dream — that’s me.”

Liam blinked. “But... how are you real?”

“You made me real,” said the figure. “With every sketch, you opened a door. Your drawings are not just pictures. They are windows to other worlds. You’re not just an artist, Liam. You’re a traveler.”

Liam looked down and saw the glowing light in his chest swirling like a tiny galaxy. Inside it, he could see stars being born, tiny people walking on planets he had drawn just days ago. He gasped in wonder.

“So... all of this... came from me?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the figure. “Because you believe. And belief is the seed of every universe.”

From that moment, Liam understood something big: imagination is not just something in your head. It is a kind of magic. A power. A light that can shine in dark places.

He returned to his desk, the room slowly coming back into focus. The lamp still glowed. The sketchbook was still open. But now, the pages were brighter. More alive. And so was Liam.

From that night on, he never doubted the value of his quiet nights or strange drawings. He kept filling his notebook — not just with stars, but with stories. And every time he drew, the light inside him grew.

One day, maybe others would find the doors he had drawn and walk through them. Maybe they too would see what he had seen — that the greatest journeys start not on the road, but in the heart.

And Liam would smile, knowing that somewhere, in the quiet corners of the universe, a boy who loved to draw had helped shape the stars.

my name is ihsanullah