The Pencils Point
I sat at my desk with my pencil in hand. I had everything lined up in front of me, ready to write all the exciting things that happened today at school. I tried to write, but I couldn't think of words that would sound right. When I was walking home from school, I knew exactly what I was going to say; now, the words didn't sound good. I thought of what I was going to write for a few more minutes, then, I heard a soft voice.
"I'll write for you!"
I looked down at my pencil, and for the first time, I noticed the marker drawn black eyes and the 'C' shaped red mouth. The first thing I thought was that Sarah, my nine-year-old sister, was trying to trick me into thinking that my pencil was talking to me. I ran out of my room and into Sarah's.
"Sar-ah!" I yelled as I ran down the hall.
I stopped, out of breath, in the frame of Sarah's door.
"Sarah…I am trying to write! Don't come by room and try to make me think my pencil is talking! It won't work!"
She giggled as I stepped out of her room, mumbling how I wasn't born yesterday. I sat back down at my desk again and brain stormed for some ideas.
I sat there staring at the mocking, blue lines for, about another hour until I finally figured out what I was going to write. As I was about to start writing, I heard the small voice again.
"Are you sure that's what you want to write?"
I was furious this time and I ran into Sarah's room again and started to yell,
"Sa……" I started, but stopped when I saw that Sarah wasn't in her room. Then I heard her devilish giggles from downstairs and ran down the steps into the kitchen and then started yelling again.
"I TOLD you to stop coming by my room!" I screeched, then I turned my words to my mother, "Mom, Sarah keeps coming by my room and making the most annoying, squeaky voice, trying to make me think it's my pencil talking to me….." My mother cut me off.
"But honey….." she said, crinkling her forehead like she always does when she is worried, "Sarah's been eating her ice-cream and watching TV with me for the past hour. She hasn't left my sight once, and nobody but us three are in the house. Are you sick?" She reached over to feel my forehead.
"No! I'm not sick." I said. "But if Sarah wasn't making those voices, then who….." I trailed off and lifted my pencil, still clutched in my hand, and it winked at me.
"You sure you don't want me to write for you?"
THE END