The Pink Pen
Pink, a simple four letter word. The wretchedness of its
vile color seems to almost illuminate the room. Pink. How I despise the color!
How I wish it to be gone from my vocabulary! Pink. A demon that will forever haunt
me! Why? I don't know. All I know is its evil follows me everywhere. Everywhere
I go, I see the color of that horrible pink. No, it couldn't just be a light pink,
it had to be vibrant!
It had all started on a very dreary Friday. You
know, one of those days where there are dark clouds in the sky and they cover
the sun. That day when it never rains but threatens to. I had forgotten to set
my alarm clock, so I woke up late. My mother rushed me to school, lecturing
me the whole way. When I finally got to school, my teacher scolded me and gave
me a tardy, since I had been 15 minutes late.
I cursed under my breath as I saw all the other
students taking the test. I had once again forgotten to study. What an idiot
I could be at times. The teacher laid the test face down on my desk. I quickly
grabbed my backpack and looked through it feverishly. I had less time than the
rest of the class to take this test. Thank Sloth for easy tests, right? I cursed
under my breath in anger as I got to the bottom of my bag. Nothing. Nada. My
pencils and pens were nowhere to be found. I looked around my backpack once
more, again finding nothing but paper.
I am a Yellow Blumaroo, with brown eyes that
my mother says are gorgeous. It's really hard to explain me. I am at first sight
just a normal Blumaroo, but everyone doesn't seem to like me. They find me a
bit odd, or extremely weird as they so kindly put it.
"Psst!" I whispered, "Matt!"
Matt was a red Grarrl, with a huge attitude that
would drive any person nuts. Matt sat a few seats away from me. I wouldn't say
we were friends, because we weren't. It was a love, hate relationship. I was
nice to him, and he was mean to me.
"What, Steve!?" hissed Matt, obviously annoyed
by me. I watched as he looked off of Amanda's paper, obviously cheating on the
"Got a pencil I can borrow?" I asked poking him
in the shoulder.
"NO!" he hissed loudly, spitting on me in the
"What is the meaning of your outburst, Matt?"
said our teacher calmly, walking towards our desks.
"Oh, sir. Well, Steve here is bothering me,"
he said as angelically as possible. I scoffed at this. Such a suck-up. He wasn't
the nice kid teachers thought him to be. He was a bully, a cheat and a liar!
"Steve. Enough. Take your test and leave Mr.
Adams here alone!" sneered my teacher. My teacher was a middle aged Kyrii, who
wore thick round glasses and always wore a tie and suit. I'm not quite sure
how he stood it, even during the summer.
My teacher and I had never gotten along. Partly
because I was a bit of an outcast. I stayed away from people and tended to do
crazy things as they called them. I liked to amuse myself by daydreaming. Yes,
daydreaming. I quite enjoyed it and I tended to doze off while the teacher was
talking. He took my dozing as disrespect. Instantly we became silent enemies.
"Sir... " I replied, "I need a pencil."
"Not my problem, is it, boy? My job is to teach
you. Not supply you." He said this turning his back to me and sitting back in
his desk chair. I sighed in defeat. One more grade for me to fail.
That was when I noticed Amanda raising her hand
in the air. Amanda was a very nice pink Quiggle. She had nice, long pink hair
the went down her back. I found her to be pretty... for a girl, you know.
I watched as she sat there patiently waiting
for the teacher to call on her. He never did. So, she quickly began to flail
her arm in the air, making as much noise as possible.
"What is it, Amanda?!" he yelled, now irritated.
"Sir, I have a pen that Steve can borrow." She
grinned, looking at me as she said this.
"Okay," he said, waving her off. Amanda quickly
hopped over next to my seat smiling the whole time.
Ever since I had known Amanda she had been very
nice to me. She would offer me part of her lunch and bring me flowers.
We were like unofficial friends.
As everyone would say, she had a crush on me.
I really wasn't into girls and found them rather icky. Amanda was okay for a
"Here you go Steve!" she cooed, handing me a
bright pink pen. "It's my favorite pen. I adore it! It writes in the prettiest
color. Don't lose it. I might cry if you did." She said this and hopped back
to her chair, with the same grin on her face.
Girls, I'll never understand them.
I quickly turned my test over and opened the
pen. That was when I noticed the pen's ink. It was like a light red... possibly
pink? I didn't think so; I had never heard of a pink pen before. Maybe it was
just the casing, right?
I began to write my name. S. T. E. V. E. Then
I noticed the pinkness of the pen. Not only was it PINK, but it was a vibrant
hot pink. I closed my eyes as I felt the brightness of the pink burn my eyes.
My eyes felt like they were on fire, as if I had just looked directly at the
hot summer sun.
The pain was unbearable.
Tears began to run down my face as the pain began
to leave my eyes. I opened them again only to have my eyes start burning again.
I quickly closed them and tried to write on my test with as little eye opening
as possible. I found this impossible, and felt my hand began to burn. At first
I thought it was from all the writing I was doing. That was until I opened my
eyes, and looked at my hand. It was literally melting.
"I'm melting!" I screamed, throwing the pen to
my desk and jumping up. I felt my throat swelling, and I began to sweat feverishly.
I grabbed my throat in panic as I couldn't breathe any longer. I was having
some kind of reaction to the atrocious pink pen!
"What's wrong, Steve?!" asked the teacher in
alarm. I ignored him, grabbing my backpack and running out the door.
I ran as quickly as I could through the halls,
feeling myself weakening from the lack of oxygen. I knew I had to get some fresh
air and fast. I sprinted out the doors and breathed in the fresh, warm air.
I fell to the ground in relief, as I felt myself beginning to breathe normally
I quickly looked at my hand, expecting blisters.
To my surprise I found none. My hand was as it normally was, not a blister or
burn in sight. I sighed, knowing I must have been seeing things. My imagination
HAD to have been taking over me, again.
I began to look through my bag for a small snack.
Until I felt a long smooth object. It felt just like a pen. Could I have possibly
found one of my missing pens? I took it out and to my surprise it was that atrocious
I quickly tried to throw it down, but to my dismay
it was stuck to my hand. I screamed in agony as it began to burn my hand once
more. I tried pulling it off with my other hand, but it didn't budge and just
burned my other hand. I yelled in frustration and pain as my hand began to turn
black. I quickly tried to pull it off with my shoe but all that did was turn
my shoe to molten rubber. I screamed and began to roll on the ground, panicking
I tried to calm myself as students began to laugh
and point at me. I began to cry, knowing they were standing there as I was being
burnt to death. Death by pink pen. Original right?
I screamed, pushing myself through the crowd
of students and ran. How far I ran? I don't know.
I ran past the school grounds, past my street
and farther then I had ever been from home. I stopped when I could no longer
breathe or stand the pain of the pen.
I panted, letting myself catch my breath, ignoring
the extreme pain in my arm. I once more tried to pull the pen off, but again
it didn't budge. I began to panic, running around in circles, grabbing at the
pen and trying to pull it off. It was impossible.
I slowly walked home. I didn't know what to do,
but I knew my parents would know what to do. When I got home, my parents didn't
yell at me, like I thought they would. They instead took me to the hospital,
to get my head checked. I did wonder why they wanted my head checked when it
was my arm that was burning off!
Now I am here, stuck at the Neopian Mental Institution,
ever since that fateful day. They think I'm crazy. That I imagined all of those
things? Preposterous! That pen was evil! It's pure pinkness. PINK. OH! PINK.
It was my demise! It ruined me. It burned my arm away, yet no one can see. They
call me crazy. I'm NOT crazy. I'm the most sane person I know.
To all you people reading this, beware. Don't
touch that pink pen. It is pure evil and will ruin your life. You don't want
to end up like me. For I am not crazy, I was just at the wrong place and at
the wrong time. I'm not crazy, I assure you of that. Just heed my word, that
pen is EVIL. EVIL I TELL YOU.