Can I Have My Pencil?

Writing down my inner most thoughts was never hard for me. I knew no one, anywhere, would ever know about them. One thing that was hard, was knowing when to stop. I knew, theoretically, that I may have an obsessive nature about....everything. I don't think its clinical, no, but perhaps it does cause problems. My morning was different. I liked mornings best, I never slept in. Mom liked that about me. She said it was good for a young girl to make good habits. This morning something was going to change but what I didnt know.

"Esme!"

ah the familiar sound of my mother. She was always on time. and the time was-annoy my daughter to death.

I didn't answer, which I hardly ever did, but today was a bit different. Though I couldn't say why. Couldn't. Wouldn't. Probably shouldn't.

She came into my room and i heard her scream. Why was she screaming? I looked over at her, annoyed. She ripped the pencil from my hand, it was a special pencil and I wanted it back.

"Mom! I'm using that! You know I like to write in the mornings."

She stared at me and at my special pencil in rapt fear. Then she tucked the pencil in her apron. I stood at once, about to reach for it, when things went tipsy in my head. One moment I was tip top high, and then next I was low down dead. Or I thought I might be dead. Up is down and down is up. Inside outside, which side was it? Did it matter which pencil I used? I could just make another. I tried to stand up, but then scary people came into my room.

"Get out of my room! Who are you people?" I screamed, but the sound didn't come out loud, it sounded weak. I was weakened. What did they do to me?

"Esme, we're going to help you. I promise."

"I don't need help, I need my pencil. Please give me my pencil and I'll go back to writing." I said, explaining to her what I really needed.

She held out my pencil for the strange men to see. They gripped my arm and ripped the sleeves up.

"Hey, that's my paper! Don't touch my paper!" I struggled out of their grasp.

"She needs institutionalized, Elizabeth. Now." The man said. That was confusing.

"Can I please have my pencil?" I asked nicely, maybe they would see how much I needed it if I was nice about it. Mom looked even more frightened and it just didn't make sense.

"Why do you want my pencil!?" I screamed and tried to reach for it. She backed away from me and I fell on my nose. It cracked, but I didn't feel it much.

"Esme?! Are you okay? I'm so sorry, we're going to help you."

"I don't need help mom, I just need my pencil. If you just give it to me and make these men go away everything will be fine. Okay?" I reasoned. She looked at the men in question.

"This is not my daughter. I have no idea what's happened to her."

"Esme, did someone hurt you? And that's why you need the pencil?"

"Well, no, not really. I was supposed to be hurt, remember? i thought i said that. It was part of the game. He was right. It only hurt for a few moments. Then he said i would meet someone knew soon. That was a good thing, he said. He said if i ever got sad i could use this special pencil, and then I wouldn't be sad anymore. It works!" I smiled at him. They all looked at one another and then Mom started crying.

"It must have happened last night. She was fine yesterday!"

"Who is the man? Esme, we want to thank him for being so nice to you. Can you tell us his name?" A man asked. He had a handsome face.

"William. He told me to call him Willy. We met at the park not so long ago. He said i'm not supposed to tell anyone, but you guys can keep a secret right?" I smiled again.

"Oh god. She's only thirteen!" Mom cried so hard and i struggled to get up but the man forced me to sit down.

"What are you doing? Can't you see that my Mom needs me?" I said, getting angry.

"Can I please, please have my pencil back?" I asked mom, maybe that's why she was upset, because she knew I was sad and that I needed it.

She cried harder. The men helped me to my feet and said we were going somewhere with lots of pencils and that Mom needed to keep that one.

"Okay, if you promise there is. Mom, don't be sad. But you can use my pencil if you need to, okay? It really helps." I said comfortingly. She hugged me super tight and I hugged her back.

"I'll see you soon." She whispered and I went away.

They lied! There are no pencils here. There are only walls and rules and icky food. They will pay for this. My paper is new again and I need a special pencil. Willy said I would never run out of paper as long as I was patient. He hasn't been wrong yet.

today is a big day a doctor said. He kept touching my stomach weirdly, like something was in there. It was bigger, but maybe the food here was really bad for me. Then the pain came. I'd never felt that before. I cried really loud and asked them to help me. and then it was over. Something was inside me! It was a baby. That was my someone new! I reached for her and they let me hold her. Mom came into the room smiling sadly. She looked down at the baby girl and I looked up at her.

"Can I have my pencil now?"

"Esme!"

Ah the familiar sound of my mother. She was always on time. And the time was-annoy my daughter to death.