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.