Mightier than the Sword
By -my real name here-
The Test
I’d forgotten to study.
The French test was on verbs and pronouns, which, by the way, I dreaded. I mean, proper and improper you, girl and boy they, and travailler apparently means “to work”. I just don’t get it.
I walked to the French room (142) with not so much confidence as I hoped. The do-now on the board told us to spread apart and get ready, and I did just that.
All of a sudden, my best friend, May, walked through the door and plopped her books on a desk next to mine.
She was one of those people who were good at everything, from sports, to academics, to even music and the other arts. She knew she was going to ace this, while I on the other hand most likely won’t.
“Kylie!” She exclaimed as she put her books on her desk. Her hair was down today; normal partially straight hair that went down just past her shoulders. She told me she was trying to grow out her bangs, but that was a month ago, and she was making no progress. She had on a jean jacket that covered her fuschia shirt that I helped her choose at Target. I had told her it complimented her tan skin. “Did you study last night?”
I tried to say something, but nothing came out.
“You didn’t, did you?” She sighed, and broke the eye contact between us by looking down, showing a bit of despair. I knew she was used to being able to have actual time to study, but I didn’t.
“I was busy with homework. You know Ms. Baker likes to give me extra.”
“Yeah, but still.”
Then, as if on cue, Mme. Beaumont came into the room. “Classe! Settle down. Are you all ready?” She questioned everyone. Everyone quickly nodded in response, partially out of fear. “Tres bien!” She exclaimed, and began passing out the test.
When I got mine, I could breathe again. The test was pretty simple… But, that was only the first page. There were 4 other pages of certain doom.
First up was how to say the verb avoir. In French, they have these overly-complicated verbs. Avoir means to have, and there were many ways to say it. I sighed with a bit of relief, as I found this more on the easy side, and slid through the questions like a fish in the water.
The next two pages were a bit easier than I expected. We had to match the verb with the picture, fill in the blanks of the sentences, and match the pronouns with their English version. Pretty easy stuff.
And then, by page 3 came the sudden doom I made this out to be. This isn’t just verbs and pronouns… she tricked us! I yelled in my head. There were welcomings and goodbyes and numbers and… well, stuff I forgot. My eyes widened, and I almost felt like exploding with tears. Only if I could have something to get all my answers right… like… I couldn’t continue my thoughts, because all of a sudden, as if out of nothing, it poured onto my desk like rain, but stayed in a certain cylinder form. It was not just the color of pale clear mid afternoon drizzle, but a kaleidoscopic pink, yellow, and gray rain.
When it finished, the thing looked like a solid pencil, but was pure beauty too amazing for our own world. As I gazed upon it almost looked like it came from Heaven itself, and yet it looked so normal. The pencil was shimmering with what looked like magic. Wispy, tiny little rainbows bursted out of it like tiny ghosts, appearing and disappearing all in a few seconds.
I gasped at the sight and looked around to see if anyone noticed the pencil, or the rainbows, or the anything. But, everyone was concentrated on the test, like a pencil always rained out on desks and puked out rainbows. Odd. Odder than odd. Odder than the pencil itself. Well, maybe not.
Come to me. I don’t hurt. It (the pencil) beckoned in my head. I blinked twice to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. I wasn’t.
I picked up the tool, and even more tiny rainbows came flowing out of it. I smiled at it, and it almost seemed to smile back.
I delicately brought it to the paper and looked at the question. Deux+Trois=
.
Ugh. How do I forget what deux and trois is?
I sighed. Maybe this pencil will help. I mean, rainbows are coming out of it.
Cinq. A heavenly voice that could only belong to an angel murmured in my head, and if almost by magic, my hand, controlled by some other-worldly force, wrote down the same answer.
It seemed right.
It looked right.
It is right.
The next day, a 100 was on my test.
Butterfly
The next few days were fun. No, they were exhilarating. With my shiny, new pencil, I kept on getting the marks of a valedictorian on my papers without lifting a finger of my own. The pencil did all the work for me, and I did nothing in return.
I got to spend more time with May, and even though she thought this whole magical pencil thing was a joke, she was proud of me for bumping up my French grade to an B. I might even get honors this year!
But, today, instead of homework, I dedicated myself to see what else my magical tool could do.
Drawing was the one thing that made me happy. So, I started with that.
With wings and the body and curly little antennas; a butterfly began to bloom on the page. It was supposed to have blue on the splotches in the wings, and black everywhere else, but I didn’t have time for that.
The butterfly gracefully slid off the page as I went to get some colored pencils.
I gasped. Don’t fret… this will always happen when you draw with me… It told me through my head.
It was still about the size of my drawing, and it was still made of paper, but it still fluttered around like a real butterfly. I smiled at it, and held my hand up, and it delicately fluttered on my fingers, resting for a second, until it leaped off, and fluttered out the window.
This pencil is amazing, I thought, smiling.
Cheater
The only person not as happy with my pencil-y changes was Ms. Baker, my math teacher. She thought I was cheating, which I was, but who cares! I hate her anyways.
Honestly, the pencil’s lead didn’t even die down. It always stayed as sharp as an arrow. I sighed in relief as I walked into 3rd period math with Ms. “That Teacher that Everyone Hates” Baker. I would rock today’s class and show her!
“Well, well well, look who we have here,” Baker sneered as I put down my books to my desk. “Little miss cheater.”
“I’m not cheating. I swear,” I replied.
“Are you honest to your word?” She questioned in a sly tone. “Because our good ol’ friend the principal told me to issue a cheating test on you. If you are cheating, you get expelled. You know how we take cheating in our school.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.” I fearlessly replied, and only then did I noticed all the students were looking at me with their half-fear half-excited eyes.
“Okay. Class, settle down. While we learn about two step equations, our friend Kylie here is going to take a little… pre-assessment.” She told the class and devilishly smiled at me.
...Expelled? Well, with my magic pencil, I’m sure to succeed! I reassured myself, and smiled. “I’m ready!” I told her, returning the smile. She rolled her eyes and handed me a test.
“Thank you,” I told her with the tiniest hint of sarcasm, and she left to begin teaching the students she didn’t hate.
I looked down at the test. How does she expect me to know this?! I thought as my eyes widened at the paper.
All of a sudden, the pencil began to whisper in my head. The answer is x=-123, it whispered only to my mind.
I murmured thanks to the pencil, wrote the answer down quickly, and dropped the pencil.
All of a sudden, Ms. Baker stopped teaching the class, and looked around, swinging only her neck and staring those bewitching eyes at me.
“Done, I see?” She replied, snatching the paper from me. She stared at the test with that “I’m so going to fail you” face; squinting at it and frowning at it all at the same time. “Please explain why there’s no work and the same exact answer as the paper right here!” Ms. Baker screamed at me once she was done with correcting my paper, and all of a sudden, bent down and scooped up a piece of paper on the floor with the same exact answer on it.
“This isn’t even the right answer, but, it’s the answer that gets you expelled. See?” She told me, shoving a paper with the answer x=-123. Oh no. Wait… how could that have been the wrong answer? I mean, the pencil gave it to me… I thought. This must be a misunderstanding.
“Ms. Baker,” I began in the clearest voice I could muster, “How is it wrong?” I finally queried.
“Well, Larkwood, you clearly didn’t have work on your paper, and that has the same answer. You clearly cheated.” She responded in an evil tone.
“But… but…” I begged, but nothing else came out.
Expelled. Something that I had only ever dreamed of, no, nightmared of, but now, it was reality. I was done. Practically dead. My future was ruined, but because of what? A false cheating epidemic? How was I going to explain to my parents that I had a magical pencil that got me expelled?
Well, it was certainly a mistake that the pencil had made, I mean, I had been using it to bump up my grades, and I had never gotten anything wrong until now, and-
“Well, what are you waiting for? GO.” Ms. Baker yelled at me, and I ran out of the class crying.
I cried my way to the office, and there, the principal officially expelled me, and my mom picked me up, and we went in the car with me crying, with my mom as mad as a bee.
Revenge
After we got home, after my mom yelled at me, after I made my pillow wet with tears, I decided to do something.
I began to draw with the magic pencil, curving in and out, and I slowly began to draw it.
The eyes.
The horns.
The muscles.
The man-beast was almost finished.
A few minutes later, it was finally done. A monster too terrifying for the worst nightmares, yet a man like you and I. The minotaur. The half man, half beast thing slowly began to erupt from the paper.
I smiled. Nobody would see this coming. It was just a drawing, on paper, but, as it slid out of the regular old printer paper, it enlarged. By a LOT.
The eyes.
The horns.
The muscles.
The man-beast was off the paper. It was what would appear to be an enlarged pencil sketch, but alive. And by enlarged, I mean enlarged. It has gigantic horns the size of
I took a deep breath, ready to command it, but all of a sudden, I saw it charging at me.
The eyes.
The horns.
The muscles.
It was all coming at me.
The thing charged at me. It was supposed to kill Ms. Baker, not me! I tried to run, but the door had drawn-on lock. The pencil… it couldn’t have done this… I thought as I shook it, but the minotaur was getting closer and closer. All of a sudden, I had an idea. The pencil! I thought, running towards it, grabbing it, and turning it to the eraser side. I pointed it to the beast, and nothing happened. Oh no… I thought.
It threw the axe I gave it, but narrowly missed. I ducked and ran to try and erase the lock on the door, but wait… couldn’t I just rip it off? It was paper. It was worth a shot. So, I tugged, frantically trying to tear the page that the hand-drawn lock was on, but it was no use. I was done for.
The minotaur was charging at me again.
The last thing I saw was the pencil turn a deathly black in my hand, evilly laughing in my head.
Creator
The pencil I had created centuries ago had landed in my hand yet again. This time, the victim was Kylie Larkwood, this little brat in my 6th period math class.
I cackled like the witch I really was, as it told me how foolish Kylie actually used it to cheat on a cheating test- how idiotic. Then, she decided to draw a beast to kill me (Impossible!), but of course, my beloved lead servant turned it against her, locked the door, and made the beast kill her. Life is good.
I stroked the pencil, my precious little pet, and cackled.
This world would be ridded of little brats like Larkwood in a short while.
“Ms. Baker, I’m confused with this problem,” Larkwood’s idiotic twin brother, Kyle had just come up to my desk, and twin was just an understatement for that.
“Of course honey. Have this pencil.” I smiled at him as he gazed at that accursed tool with wonder.
Eh? Eh? It's for school.
.