February 28, 2008
By Grace Karnes, Mattawan, MI

I don't believe in magic pencils but this one spoke to me. Its bright pink body stared at me, hypnotizing me with its yellow poka dots. I found my new amazing pencil on the floor in my room one morning a couple of weeks ago before the big science test...
“Rachel you’re going to miss the bus!" my mother yelled! I rolled my deep blue eyes and continued to stare at myself in the mirror. My long brown curls were bouncing, always bouncing. How they bugged me, every time I simply blinked they bounced. I longed to have sleek straight hair, I would look like a true artist not Shirley Temple! I didn't want to go to school, an artist didn't need school. Everyone there thought I was a freak because I would spend hour after hour drawing and never listening to what the teacher said. I hopped if I kept on doing that I would fail and my parents would give up on me and keep me home. I knew better. Something tickled the edge of my foot. What was it? I glanced down to see a pink special that looked like it had only been sharpened once. I picked it up thinking nothing of it and was off to a prison called school.
The bus ride was long and boring no one to talk to, nothing to do! The morning was even longer first hour, second hour, a few hi(s) in hallways as you pass some friends. Same as every day. Next was third hour, science! Our test was today and last night I was so busy working on my most resent painting I had no time to study.
"Hey Rachel, (it was my best friend Monica) the test was super hard, I hope you studied," her voice questing me.
“I had no time, I was working on my new piece for the art show!” I exclaimed. The piece was amazing its colors grabbed you and gave you this sense of happiness and love! The bell rang interrupting my thoughts and our conversation. We quick said goodbye and sprinted to class like we were in the Olympics or something! As I entered the classroom I broke out into a cold sweat, my entire body was shaking like I was at the North Pole or something. The more I shook the more my curls bounced, taping my shoulder then ear, shoulder ear, shoulder ear, it was endless! I knew I was on pins and needles! I sat down on the cold hard chair when the room started to close in on me. The bugs hanging from the ceiling came to life, the things floating in jar all stared at me. My stomach turned, when suddenly the pencil rolled out of my binder and into my hand. The pencil seemed to have a life of its own, taking control over my hand, writing things I had never heard of. It was done, the test was done.
The rest of the day passed, but still all I could think about was third hour. I though about it so much that to this very day I still can’t remember what happened until the very next day in third hour! It’s almost like I had been drugged or something. The teacher grasped the tests, handing them out as if she were handing out the Nobel Prize to Martin Luther King Junior. My name slipped out of her lips and I stood up to go see my grade. I was expecting an F. When I looked at it there wasn’t an F or a D or a C not even a B! It was an A! My lip curled into a slit smile. When they did my curls bounced, but at that very moment it didn’t seem to bug me.
I guess I do believe in magic pencils? Next hour I have a social studies test!

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