Voldie luvs Umbridge shirt

I saw her pick up a yellow stick with a little tuff of pink on the top. I rubbed my eyes, I couldn't believe it, it was a pencil. That hit on the head must have been harder that I thought. She started writing with her golden, wooden pencil. The light pink eraser had a tiny slope near the end showing that this pencil had indeed been used before. The tip was actually grass green, pointy like a sharks tooth. It was pretty big and looked like it would fall off the pencil at any moment, dangling for life -- like me. I know I probably sound weird comparing myself to a pencil, but after all I'd been through it didn't seem that crazy. The tip shook slightly you wouldn't have seen it if you hadn't been looking at it closely. Then suddenly it fell to the rough paper, dead, rolling around before halting to a stop at the table. Finally gravity took over and the pencil tip fell to the ground.

Prelude- summer nighttime
An eleven year old girl is running from a monster. Up ahead is a farmhouse. Little does she know that the farmhouse is Camp Half-Blood. The monster is catching up to her and is soon right behind her. She stops. Bad mistake. The monster claws her legs. She tries to runs. The monster lunges again, tis time clawing her back and neck. I MUST at least get to those woods, she thought. So she bolted to the woods.
Somehow she loses the monster in the woods. It howls in rage and leaves.
"I'm safe," she murmers and passes out.
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