2H

My sketch pencils glare mockingly at me from my desk. I'd been lying in the torture device formerly known as my bed and feeling guilty for not being more productive.

I glare back, "Eff you." I get up and throw a hoodie over them. "Take that."

I think I hear them sigh. "That won't make us go away you spoiled little bitch."

I look around the room. Hahahaha .. what? Did they just talk to me? Now they aren't just glaring, but talking and swearing?! I really should be finishing that submission for physics but I think I’ll go with chatting with my pencils just for giggles.

"Shut the fuck up or I'll sharpen you down to carbon shavings." I answer. "I'm not spoiled and I'm pretty sick of people saying that..."

"Hey dumbass, we're pencils not people. You do realize you're having a conversation with your pencils?"

I thought I could actually hear one of them smirk. It was probably that 2H. He never liked me anyway."I don't care. You started it. And I'm not spoiled and I definitely don't think y'all should be name calling and mocking me." I'd gotten out of the bed and was pacing the floor. My life was just too bizarre sometimes.

2H seemed to have taken over as spokesperson .. erhm.. pencil. It figures. "You've been ignoring us."

Scenes from Donnie Darko flash through my brain. At any moment, I expect Frank to appear in my mirror. I wonder if I should just leave the room or call someone to come hear this, but I just stand there."I've been busy. And besides, nothing is turning out right." I laugh at myself for justifying my actions to my sketch pencils.

"That’s not what’s going on and you know it. You’re having an emotional crisis. Look what you did to that poor mug and even that you completely screwed up." This was perhaps the cockiest pencil I'd ever talked to .. wait .. well, never mind that right now.

“SHUT UP” I yell. “You think I don’t already know this? I’m talking to my flippin’ pencils you stupid moron.”

"Haha. Yeah. I’m the moron. I will not shut up," he said. "Look, if you're going to do something in anger, just do it. You needed a cheering section and 20 minutes to think about it."

"I did not. I just wrote it like that for dramatic effect. Besides, what the hell do you care? And ya know what!?" I said spinning around to face him. Uhoh. That pencil was really starting to piss me off and I felt a rant coming on.

"What's that little princess?" He chuckled.

I could feel my face flush. I absolutely detest being patronized. "Don’t call me a princess! I am sick and tired of everyone including my stupid belongings telling me how to feel and act. Shut up. I'll sketch when and if I feel like it. AND," I screamed, " if I wanna break every damm dish in the house, then I'll do that too."

"Okay. Okay. Calm down girlie." He patronized. "But while we're on the topic of things you should do .. "

"Wait,” I interrupt, “Why are we on that topic? I don't care what you think I should do. I quit. I'm done. I'm going out. And I'm not coming back. And I hope whoever comes in here to clean out my stuff puts you in the trash.”

“That's right little girl. Run away. It's easier than letting someone or something matter. Or trying something and having it not work. Run away though. That way you'll never have to be a big girl and grow up or take a chance."

"Fuck you." I said as I slam the door.

Who knows when or if I'll sketch again. I'm kinda scared of writing utensils now ;)