Mary Sky

                                        A Pen Story

Mister Penner P. Penn was born on... err... alright, to tell you the truth, I forgot his birthday. That is, if I actually ever knew it. Not as if that guy invited anyone to his nice ebon pen case on any occasion anyway. Mr. Penn wasn't really one of those pricey special pens, he was just a gel pen, and he didn't really even have a very good attitude. More like, the exact opposite. In reality, Mr. Penn was a bitter and very black inked person. Even now, as I remember him, I could never recall a day when that guy didn't annoy me horribly, with his rude attitude. Yet, he was still the human's favorite pen to hang out with during the early years of his life. We, the other pens, hated him with a passion. However, I was forced into writing this to honor his life due to the human brat having liked the pen. Ah, the girl never did have a brain. Anyhow, back to Mr. Penn and his pathetic life which was in fact, very sad.

Each morning, he'd start the day by making everything all dark and gloomy while searching for that awful black cap with the metallic clip (he never had a sense of style). Worst of all, this guy hardly spoke. Although, if you ever heard his scribble-like voice, you'd never want him to actually talk. That dark gaze with his night eyes was enough. No matter how much we all tried, no one could get over Mr. Penn's dark  glares. They were just simply horrible! The world really is better off without this guy. Among all the other things we had to put up with, Mr. Penn also had an annoying hobby of doodling in corners of a page. This all started one day in Spanish class, where he doodled as a way of annoyance, knowing that the human would get in trouble for having drawn on the page.

From a one time evil deed, it developed into a constant habit. Always drawing something once he finished the millionth page of Science notes, or that Social Studies essay. It developed into something that bothered the rest of us each day. So it was joyful, when a new pen came to the book bag. Her name was Penny B. Penkry, and she was a brilliant blue pen. With Mr. Penn everything was always very black and white, while with her, color finally entered. Miss Penkry was a blue gel pen, nice and cheerful, and what Mr. Penn hated most about her, was Miss Penkry's artistic skill. You see, none of us ever did like Mr. Penn's art. However, her art was great. The small amount of people that ever did like his work disappeared and suddenly, everyone was surrounding the new arrival. Miss Penny B. Penkry became his worst enemy and never had the dreadful silent black pen hated anyone in his life as much as he carried disgust at that blue pen.

Each day from then on, Mr. Penn would try to out-do the blue pen. He did everything, tried every style of design, drawing as much as he could, Mr. Penn was desperate to be better. Meanwhile, Miss Penkry just lived her merry life, drawing easily without much care in the world, just happily and easily, never bothered by anything. However, what was worst, was that Mr. Penn was now growing old. He wasn't a young brand new pen, and his ink was wearing out. With his hair growing closer to gray, it was obvious that he was soon to leave us. However, that never stopped Mr. Penn, he did EVERYTHING to defeat that woman. Mr. Penn made it a goal, a plan, a last wish. Finally, luck came to him. Or so he thought.

On a rainy morning in September, Miss Penkry finally accepted an art challenge against Mr. Penn, this was his chance. Finally, he'd have his dream. It was perfect, Mr. Penn had been planning this particular piece of art for weeks, training drawing parts of the picture on corners and sides of the page. On the rainy day, the contest began. Miss Penkry didn't make it easy for him to reach victory as she drew a wonderful fall composition, something to really look at for hours. Yet, he didn't give up. There was no way that Mr. Penn would surrender now, after all the hard work he'd put into becoming better than her. With a sinister scribbling sound, he began to draw the best picture that would ever be drawn on the back  of Social Studies notes. It was a fierce battle scene between two sides, one wearing black uniforms and the other those of pure white. A battle that captured the pure essence and expressed it perfectly. Ms. Penkry never stood a chance against him. Yet, as he signed his name, his ink ran out and he fell, just as he was about to write the second 'n' in 'Penn', he died. It was the best piece of his life, he won the contest, but at the price of his very own life. Now, I speak from the hearts of all those who knew him, when I say:

"We really don't care that we lost him, after all, he was a dreadful guy."