The Magic Pen
Mira’s forehead creased as she glared at the crimson velvet book on her lap. She wondered where it came from. The book smelled new, and the pages unwritten. There were no traces that proved she owned it, nor read it at some point. She gripped it in her hands, flipping it many times, mystified.
The pages were blank except for the letters
L S Y
Astounded, she set the book on a desk. Suddenly, the book pages started flipping over by itself. A gush of air came out from the middle of the book. It became bigger and bigger, whirling around her in a swift motion.
Mira reached out her hands clamoring for her dear life. In the blink of an eye, the whirlwind sucked her into the crevasse. It dropped her in the middle of a twister, circling around like laundry in the washing machine. Her feet were up in the air, and her hair flipped down, kicking only brought her harm. She was floating aimlessly into the unknown, defenseless.
In a zap, darkness wrapped her as the book sealed and dropped on the floor.
Light sprung. Thud!
Her bottom bounced onto soft white sheets, which looked like the pages of a notebook. The deafening silence made her quiver, crawling to the center of the book. Her heart was pounding like crazy, drowning the eerie stillness. She looked around but saw nothing. Whiffed of rose tickled her nose but she was startled at the wave of nausea that hit her on the face. Her knees weakened like an ice cream melting under the warmth of the sunlight. Everything was calm. But she felt turbulence in the midst of the tranquility. And, one thing was certain. She needed to get out!
Suddenly, the pages flipped by itself until it stalled on a page. “L S Y,” it read. She gasped. “This can’t be happening,” she thought.
On one of the white sheets, words sprung out of thin air.
On one of the white sheets, words sprung out of thin air. My pen is a wand. It can write a curse or a powerful charm. My pen is a mirror. It can show you a monster or a beautiful figure. My pen is key. It can free you from a trapped door, or it can lock you inside that door until the oxygen runs out, and you can't breathe. My pen is a weapon. -- Christian Ek
The words leaped out as if they were yelling at her. She glared at it. Her mind was racing a mile per minute. Right then, a pen appeared from thin air.
She scribbled, “I yearn to go back to my former life.” Like magic, the words she wrote vanished. She lingered… waited… and waited. But nothing happened.
The pen slipped out from Mira’s grasp. Shoulders slumped, she sat down on the white sheet. As if on queue, the light brightened her surrounding revealing a room she has never seen before. And, for odd reasons, she was minuscule in a giant’s room. Mira clenched her teeth and shook her head. “Where am I?” her voice quivered.
A door opened then came to a powerful bang as if something crashed. She squatted, observing. She heard gasps between whimpers. “Is there someone else here?”
Light burst out, blinding her sight. Then, a schoolgirl with long black hair turned up. Mira gawked as she saw the girl in front of her, her archenemy, Sun Yee Lim, a.k.a. Sunny. Both of them froze, their eyes met, or did they?
Mira felt a massive splash of water drop next to her. She looked up. The girl's almond eyes were brimming with tears. It was Sunny's teardrop. She was scribbling something on the blank page.
"I hate everyone! This is unfair. I tried to study and organize everything in that book. But that witch Mira tore it to pieces. Now, I failed my test. My parents will not be happy. I won't be able to go to Taiwan. I wanna go back home. I don't have anyone here. I'd rather die."
Right then, Sunny closed the book oblivious to the fact that someone else read what she wrote. And unlike Mira's, Sunny's words stayed. Her mind was shooting myriads of questions.
Mira stared at the pencil, curious at what it does. She stood up and tried to use the eraser at the top of the pen. As expected, it erased what Sunny has written, sending excruciating pain all over her body. She hesitated then wrote,
Sunny started to violently choke as if something was stuck in her throat. She was gawking, squirming, and flapping her hands in the air.
Flabbergasted, Mira erased what she wrote. The choking stopped. Her chest swelled, and thousands of jolts flowed through her veins.
"Was that too harsh for her?" Mira asked and picked up her pen. She tried to rewrite what Sunny has written. As Mira wrote word afterword, she felt the utmost peace and lightness. She erased and rewrote several times. Then,
she put in her last sentence only to realize that half of her body disappeared. She erased what she wrote. Her body reappeared. Mira sat there, dumbfounded.
Whichever choice she makes, it's either she will be in pain or erased for eternity. Yet one thing is for sure, her words could create a lasting impact on someone else's life.
© 2020 Rhona Cardenas