Angie drew the things that she hated. She did not draw still life. Her immutable soul wasn't that free of cynicism that it allowed her to physically perform the actions of gathering a pile of fruit and then painting them, however plump or well-coloured those fruit happened to be.
She drew things that she hated, and it was her hatred that was transposed onto paper, so that gradually, day by day, an almanac of vile and disgusting things compiled itself on cartridge sheets in her room. The latest addition was currently being given birth to at the desk. Instead of doing what she was supposed to be doing, Angela had spent the last twenty minutes drawing a fish. A fish with teeth - human teeth.
A fat body and tail had already developed in pencil: now it was only the mouth left, and it was with a kind of fury that she carved the jagged line of the teeth, her hand clenched in a fist. The line was given multiple treatments, darkening it as far as graphite could go to a shiny almost-black. Angela hated teeth. Loathed them. And it wasn't just the fact that her own had grown in horribly impacted, either - it was the entire body of what they stood for.
She drew splayed, grotesquely maloccluded front incisors. Those were the teeth that got laughed at in schools. That caused misery in children.
The hind-molars, she naturally represented as lodged at ninety degrees in the worst impaction. Those were the teeth that might have given her endless grief, but outright killed others less fortunate.
Finally, the canines were veritable fangs, which were not so much disgusting as they were unfortunate. Yes, 'unfortunate', Angela thought, tapping her chin with her pencil. That was a good word - there wasn't really one better to describe an ecosystem, after all, that seemed to be established on a cycle of compulsory murder...