Pencil

by Hayden Becker, age 11
Pencil Hayden is an eleven-year-old writer who is working on several short stories. He enjoys playing soccer and baseball in his free time.

“Hey, my name is Bob, and I’m a pencil. I live in a pencil holder in a kindergarten classroom.”

Hey, my name is Bob, and I’m a pencil. I live in a pencil holder in a kindergarten classroom. Every day, I am sick of getting used to write and being sharpened until my eraser. All of my friends die, one after another, because they get sharpened too much and finally die. Our executioners are the 27 little boys and girls in small outfits that squirrels can fit into. These kids are cute, but they are killing my friends, I thought.

“We have to make a run for it,” said my wife, Bobbette.

“Agreed,” I said enthusiastically.

The number one thing I hate about being a pencil is always being bitten by the kids at the end of the day, then just being dropped on the ground. Once, I saw my friend Tim the pencil get stepped on and snapped in half. It was traumatizing.

The day after, we decided to make a plan to escape.

The teacher in the classroom, Ms. Lopez, said, “Hello, class. I’m Ms. Lopez, your substitute teacher. Tomorrow, we will have the one and only Dr. Seuss in our class for show and tell! One lucky student will also get to interview him! The student that won the writing competition is Hudson!”

Ten seconds after, we looked at each other and said, “This is our escape plan.” When Dr. Seuss walks in, we will slip into his bag, and he will take us away from this dungeon.

“But how do we get in the bag?” Bobbette asked.

“We get the kid, Hudson, to put us on Dr. Seuss’ desk,” I said.

“But how do we do that?” Bobbette asked.

“We have to get to Hudson’s desk. He’s that smart kid who always raises his hand. Hudson will get close enough to Dr. Seuss, and we can slip into his bag,” I explained.

“That’s a great plan!” Bobbette said.

“Tonight, we will climb into his desk and take out the other pencils while they sleep, we’ll tape ourselves together, and Hudson will bring us both to the doctor,” I said in great fashion. Bobette agreed.

The next morning, Hudson went up to Dr. Seuss’ desk with us taped to each other. The plan is working, we thought, but we didn’t know what was going to happen next. By the end of the interview, the tape came apart while I flew into his bag, and Bobette went with Hudson. We didn’t see each other ever again.

 

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