{"id":7552,"date":"2026-06-24T14:36:37","date_gmt":"2026-06-24T09:06:37","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/?p=7552"},"modified":"2026-06-24T14:36:37","modified_gmt":"2026-06-24T09:06:37","slug":"the-drawing-in-her-backpack","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/?p=7552","title":{"rendered":"The Drawing in Her Backpack"},"content":{"rendered":"
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The biker stood beside Avery.<\/p>\n

Ready to leave.<\/p>\n

Ready to help.<\/p>\n

Then\u2014<\/p>\n

Avery grabbed his sleeve.<\/p>\n

\u201cWait.\u201d<\/p>\n

Her voice was small.<\/p>\n

Fragile.<\/p>\n

She carefully slipped off her backpack.<\/p>\n

And pulled out a folded piece of paper.<\/p>\n

The edges were crumpled.<\/p>\n

As if she had carried it everywhere.<\/p>\n

The biker took it.<\/p>\n

Slowly unfolding it.<\/p>\n

And froze.<\/p>\n

It was a child’s drawing.<\/p>\n

A house.<\/p>\n

A tree.<\/p>\n

A little girl on crutches.<\/p>\n

And beside her\u2014<\/p>\n

a man with a white beard.<\/p>\n

The biker.<\/p>\n

His throat tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cAvery\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

The girl looked down.<\/p>\n

Tears falling onto her shoes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI drew it last year.\u201d<\/p>\n

The biker stared at the picture.<\/p>\n

At the smiling faces.<\/p>\n

At the words written underneath in shaky handwriting.<\/p>\n

My safe person.<\/strong><\/p>\n

His eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n

Then he noticed something else.<\/p>\n

In the corner of the drawing was another figure.<\/p>\n

Tall.<\/p>\n

Angry.<\/p>\n

Drawn in black crayon.<\/p>\n

Standing near the house.<\/p>\n

The biker’s expression changed instantly.<\/p>\n

His voice gentle.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut firm.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWho is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Avery’s hands began to shake.<\/p>\n

She wrapped her arms around herself.<\/p>\n

Trying not to cry.<\/p>\n

Then she whispered\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cHe came back.\u201d<\/p>\n

The biker felt his stomach drop.<\/p>\n

The fear in her voice said everything.<\/p>\n

The diner suddenly felt very quiet.<\/p>\n

Avery looked up at him.<\/p>\n

Desperate.<\/p>\n

Terrified.<\/p>\n

And asked the question she had been carrying all morning.<\/p>\n

\u201cWill you still come?\u201d<\/p>\n

The biker knelt beside her.<\/p>\n

Holding the drawing carefully.<\/p>\n

Then he placed a hand on her shoulder.<\/p>\n

His voice steady.<\/p>\n

Certain.<\/p>\n

The kind of voice that makes fear lose its power.<\/p>\n

\u201cI’ll come.\u201d<\/p>\n

A tear rolled down Avery’s cheek.<\/p>\n

The biker smiled softly.<\/p>\n

Then pointed at the words on the drawing.<\/p>\n

My safe person.<\/strong><\/p>\n

And whispered\u2014<\/p>\n

\u201cYou drew it right.\u201d<\/p>\n

Because in that moment\u2014<\/p>\n

Avery realized she hadn’t come to ask for help.<\/p>\n

She had come to the one person she already trusted to protect her.<\/p>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/section>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

The biker stood beside Avery. Ready to leave. Ready to help. Then\u2014 Avery grabbed his sleeve. \u201cWait.\u201d Her voice was small. Fragile. She carefully slipped off her backpack. And pulled out a folded piece of paper. The edges were crumpled. As if she had carried it everywhere. The biker took it. Slowly unfolding it. And […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":7554,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-7552","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-trending-story"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7552","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/7"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=7552"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7552\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/7554"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=7552"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=7552"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storytimes.online\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=7552"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}