The Great Pen Escape

  They were here just a moment ago.

I am sure, I saw them. A full cup of pens, standing tall and proud on my desk. But now? Gone. Vanished without a trace. All of them too! Black, Blue, Red, even my whitener! There were no signs of a struggle—just an empty cup and the growing suspicion that my pens are orchestrating the greatest escape of all time.

I scan the room, eyes darting around like I’m in the middle of an action movie. Did they roll off the desk? Take a daring leap into the lacuna between my bed and the wall? I check all the usual spots - Under my notebooks, in drawers, even my backpack (which is more of a void really, than a storage space).  But not a single ink smudged clue. Hmmm.... Let's think some suspects....

• The Borrower: My sibling who "needed it for a second" but never gives it back
• The Desk Demon: You know? The mysterious force in your desk who takes things of it when your not looking?
• Me?!: Did I subconsciously take them without noticing? Nah, Impossible. (Right?)

I will not accept defeat. If my pens think they can scurry of so easily, they are mistaken. 

Defeated, I flop onto my bed, dramatically draping an arm over my forehead like a tragic hero. This is it. This is how it ends—not with a kaboom, but with an empty pen cup and a miserable spirit.  But then… I feel it. A weird lump under my back. I sit up slowly, reaching behind me… and pull out… a pen. No. Not just one pen. ALL of them.  From my own hoodie pocket.  My brain short-circuits. The room tilts. My life flashes before my eyes—every time I’ve lost a pen, every time I’ve accused my innocent sibling, every time I’ve screamed ‘WHO KEEPS TAKING MY PENS?!’  wasn’t the victim. I was the criminal. I WAS THE DESK DEMON.  The betrayal stings. Not from others—no, this was self-sabotage. This was the plot twist of the century.

Will I change? Will I become a better person? Probably not. But at least for now, I can rest easy—until the next Great Pen Escape.

Because,  let’s be honest. I’ll lose them all again by tomorrow.