That pen has sat on my desk all day. I couldn't bring myself to take it with me to school for fear of someone possibly stealing it. All I could think about all day long was that pen and that woman. Who had that woman been? Why had she given me that pen? I couldn't focus on anything the teachers were saying or even remember to take notes.
I was trying really hard to figure out whether what had happened was real or just in my head. I was really hoping that it was real. That I hadn't just imagined that woman. I hadn't imagined her giving me that beautiful fountain pen. If I had imagined it all it would mean that everyone was probably right about me. That there really is a screw loose somewhere in my head. I don't want to believe that there's something wrong with my mind. I don't want to tell my mom that her child was seeing things that aren't there. How would that make her feel? Would she worry for me or would she be afraid of me?
All day I found myself tapping my pencil on my desk trying to will the clock to move faster. I wanted to go back home so I could take a closer look at that pen. Yesterday I had been too scared to even pick it up. I was too worried that it might just be all in my head. That even if I touch it and feel it's there that it's not actually there. When the final bell at the end of the day rang I rushed out the doors eager to get home. My mom wasn't home as usual. She's always putting in a lot of hours at the hospital she works out so she can make sure bills are paid.
Sure enough sitting on my desk was that pen. The closer I got the more I noticed it was humming once again. Like it was welcoming me home. There wasn't any gears in it that I could see. Was I crazy to think that this pen is actually alive? I turned the pen over and over in my hand looking at every inch of the pen. I jumped when suddenly I felt pain on one of my fingers. Turning my hand over I noticed that I had cut myself on the tip of the pen. I hadn't realized it was that sharp.
I quickly dropped the pen on to my desk when the clear crystal suddenly turned a bright green. It looked like the crystal was sucking the color in through the tip like a liquid filling the space inside the pen. In a matter of minutes the pen was no longer clear in color but a bright green. The kind of green that you would see when the sun shines through a leaf. I tenderly picked up the pen again unsure of what was going to happen next. I let out a long breath relieved that nothing else happened.
I slowly picked up the pen again noticing that it wasn't humming any more. In fact it felt warm in my hands now. If I am insane there could be worse things I could be hallucinating than a pen changing colors in my hand.
I pulled out my notebook unsure if whether this thing needed an ink well to use or there was something more to it. Who knows if this is all in my head I probably don't need ink at all. The thought made me crack a little smile as I looked around my room. My eyes fell on a butterfly lying on the window sill of my open window. It didn't take long for me to realize that the butterfly was dead. I sat there wondering how it had died. I wondered if it was possible that I had crushed it in the window when I was paying attention. I didn't like the idea that maybe it was my fault that something so delicate was killed because I was being careless. Every life matters right?
Turning back to my notebook I placed the tip of the pen against the paper. When I lifted the pen back up I saw a single golden dot on the piece of paper. So there is ink in this thing. I put the tip of the pen back against the paper writing a single line on the paper.
The butterfly fluttered around the room before landing on top of the notebook.
I sat back in my chair watching the words shine on the page. The ink looked almost like it was actual liquid gold. I jumped out of my chair when the words suddenly lifted off the page and evaporated into the air. I must have really lost it after all.
My heart stopped in my chest when the butterfly that had just been lying dead on my window sill landed on my notebook. I turned my head to look at the window sill to see that it was empty. There was no butterfly there any more. There was just the one with the powder blue wings sitting on my notebook. Had it just been stunned? What was going on?
My head felt like it was spinning because I wasn't sure what was happening. I wasn't sure if I was losing my mind or experience something amazing. I quickly set the pen back down on my desk not sure what to think of it.
Unsure of what I should do I went downstairs. I sat down at the laptop that my mom and I share and surfed the web. There had to be something out there about magical pens. There had to some explanation for what was happening. I spent so many hours on the laptop that I didn't notice how much time passed till my mom came home. Seeing that it was close to midnight I crawled into bed thinking that maybe after some sleep things would start to make sense again. As of right now things were pretty crazy.