Studying Mood in English Class

It's that time of year again...spooky season! The time when the 8th graders study tone and mood and PencilFace. That's right, PencilFace is back and creepier than ever. Each student crafted a piece of writing to best reflect the mood presented in the short "PencilFace." They then voted on each other's work based on the mood presented. Below are the winners:

4th Place

The Thought Too Late

by Lilly R.

As the tall, long-limbed, plain looking girl in the plaid dress with the long brown hair wandered through the field, playing with odd ends of discarded tree bark, how was she to know? Oh the horrors that awaited her as she slowly strolled to the empty lot. Alone and bored she was, searching for something unfamiliar was when she saw something strange and sadistic. A haunting and forlorn music she heard that started as soon as she saw it. Crying out slowly, bells ringing and percussion keeps a steady pace that warns her of the dangers that this certain object holds. The wind seemed to howl through the trees and the grass rustled as she approached it. A bit taller than her was a sunny yellow stick, with green and pink at the top in bright happy colors looking friendly. Tottering on back and forth with the wind on the sharpened graphite the horrific but peculiar configuration of the maw that beheld dull, creamy, unequal teeth that boasted two freakishly large front teeth with lips carved thickly and pushed outward from under the nose. The mole on the thick chin and above that dreadful smile were the two slits that it called a nose and large blobs that pushed the eyes up and the huge dimples it had were deep cracks beside the creepy grin. But worst of all, the worst part about it was those eyes. Green orbs that peered at her from squinted eyes that seemed trustable enough, but the malicious intent she could not see under the surface. They rolled around, facing one side but still observing her scarily with the other. They seemed to tell her to pick the thick object up with it’s hypnotic stare.

It was like a jousting pole, she thought after she walked cautiously towards it and wrapped her fingers around the wood that gleamed in the hot sun. Nothing bad happened, and that is when she had the sudden impulse to draw a cake in the air. As she could not see when she traced the cake into the air, the pencil’s smile got wider. She set it down and it righted itself, still wobbling on that point. Not sure why she did it, but then a delicious, frosted cake appeared and dropped to the ground. Greedily she rushed forward towards the baker’s confection and felt that tingle and as the hairs on the back of her neck rose she rotated towards the grinning friendly pencil. An image of a kite appeared in her mind, which she thought was peculiar because she hadn’t thought about kites at all that day. She drew it quickly and it fell to the ground. The grin with those horrible large teeth got wider. She wasn’t a very good artist, but the pencil always seemed to know what she wanted. Maybe the pencil was putting those images into her head? The girl looked at the pencil again and saw those eyes scary yet something made her do whatever they wanted her to. She set the pencil down and stared at the image of the kite. It seemed like an illusion, but then it always appears. She grabs the kite quickly like it might vanish into thin air and also brings the pencil along while it whips around in the wind. As she couldn’t see still, the eyes stare ahead and the bright yellow wooden stick smiles still. The music she had heard increases in volume and intensity as she loses her grip on the kite. The bells ping and ring as the hallucination of a rainbow lollipop appears in her mind. Maybe she should stop taking suggestions from him and go back home. The wanting for a sugary sweet lollipop grows and she grabs the writing tool and swiftly spirals it into the shape she desired. It takes a few seconds longer than it did with the cake or kite and she wonders if this was a bad idea. The No.2 pencil stands by her side, waiting for what he knows will happen to her. The air around it goes quiet and the sketch turns into a black rounded circle with a pointed back. The black shiny surface sucks in and bounces back out like a drum. The music she has heard goes strangely quieter and all she can hear and see is the thrumming of the object, louder and louder! She looks back at what she thought was a friend of a sort and it smiles still, watching her with those round green orbs smiling for the unchangeable future for her. She turns to face the horrible black thing and is for the first time, unsure of what to do. She has the sudden thought to run, away from the pencil, away from those nefarious eyes and horrible smirk, away from the black object that beats and hums like a kettledrum. She turns back, her face inches from it and her eyes widen in fright as it hums and sucks inward one last time, and she is sucked into the vortex that takes her where no one has come back from again. The thought to run too late, as the malicious object of those eyes and grin watch as she disappears from this earth. The thought too late as the music that warned her fades slowly away, the quiet, lonely, haunting music that warned her of the dangers of Pencil Face.

3rd Place

The Living Nightmare

by Jacob P.

The girl, all alone playing with some old bark she found on a tree, walks towards the black top and sees an alarming sight. She tilts her head wondering if it’s real. Her hair rising on the back of her neck. There standing before her is a pencil about as tall as herself with a face. With its puffy eyes, buck teeth, and bloodthirsty smile, it stares at her. As she walks over to it, she wonders why it’s here. She picks it up and begins to draw in the sky, she draws a cake for herself. After she finishes drawing the cake, she lets go of the pencil. The pencil standing next to her. Out of thin air, the cake falls out of thin air onto the ground, the pencil’s smile growing as he watches her eat the cake. Thinking about what she can do next with the power she has with this new pencil, an image pops into the girls head. A kite. Then just like that she picks up the pencil and draws her kite. And just like the cake, the kite appears out of thin air and lands on the floor. She picks up the kite and the pencil and runs with the wind. The kite soaring behind her. The pencil’s smile growing with delight. Then the girl lets go of the string and the kite flies into a tree. As she watches it soar away, another image pops into her head. A lollipop. She picks up the pencil and begins to draw the massive swirls of a delicious lollipop. Then instead of a lollipop, a black hole appears. Looking like a cornucopia, it beats like a drum. As the girl walks toward this horrifying sight, she looks back at the pencil’s face, who looks like he’s on the verge of laughing. She looks back at the cornucopia and it sucks her in. The pencil looking at the black hole laughs and laughs and laughs. He'll help you draw, he'll help you erase; waste not want not...he's Pencil Face.

2nd Place

A Darkness That Devours

by Kaiya K.

Aimlessly, she walks around the empty lot. Her long arms reach out and grip the red, twisted pipe. She pulls herself up on it, her head down, looking at her dangling feet. Her feet scrape the asphalt which breaks the eerie silence. She begins to wander again as if she were looking for something. She stares into the abyss. Only the abyss has a face. It’s eyes slightly mad and it’s cheeks so inflated from the frantic smile that shows a set of twisted teeth. A tall, thin, yellow, pencil stares back at her.

Without a second thought, she grabs the life-size pencil, and starts to draw in the air as if on invisible paper. Even as she draws the pencil continues to stare at her with the same frantic smile. The girl hardly seems to notice and keeps drawing. She finishes, and the pencil is put right side up again. As she’s poised waiting for something to happen, the drawing falls onto the ground, leaving a perfectly iced, three layered cake that anyone would enjoy. For the first time, the girl’s face lights up and curiosity once again gets the best of her. The girl, now having taken a few small chunks taken out the cake, finally notices the pencil still staring. Before she could be frightened for too long, a faint iridescent kite glimmers out of the corner of her eye catching her attention.

Once again, she grabs the pencil, this time a little unsure, and draws a simple kite. A new, white kite, with blue and red ribbons falls to the ground, replacing the drawing. Instead of returning the pencil to its upright position, her feet go straight for the kite. She skips around the abandoned lot kicking up the rubble by her feet. One hand holding the pencil, and the other handling the kite. It flies in the air while getting pushed and pulled by the wind until the girl’s grip loosens on the spool and is ripped from her hand. Never to be seen again, the kite disappears. This time an almost clear colored lollipop with many twists, waves right in front of her face. She understands what the pencil wants.

Pointing the pencil at the nothing, she draws another figure resembling a lollipop. Her scribbles start shaking and trembling. Snap! What did she create this time? Off-beat drumming noises come from inside the black portal. She looks back at the pencil, searching for an answer. She gets the same frantic look. Turning back towards the portal, the drumming gets louder and louder until it devours her. The pencil, still smiling, knows his job is done.

1st Place

When a Demon Smiles

by Corban R.

Something had always drawn her to this particular school. It was located in a forgotten gambling city, a few hundred miles from Las Vegas, and it was a ghost town at heart. They locals used to say that their town was the driest around, and that even the infamous deathback rattlesnakes couldn’t last long without the spring that ran year round. They were wrong, of course; even after the well dried up and the people left, there were still snakes around. This much, she knew. A close encounter with one yesterday morning had proven that theory.

If the rumors were true, no one had even attended this school. Construction had begun in the early 2000’s, but the project had never been finished. The town had dried up in April of 2006, and no one had ever set foot on the campus. If you were stupid enough to take a tour, you would find the half finished classrooms, with only window frames and blackboards laid against the walls instead of hanging on them. The drinking fountains were rusted, although no one could explain why. Some theorized that the bathrooms had some kind of poisoned water in them but the unfinished sinks and toilets didn’t allow any testing to happen.

She herself was no scientist nor historian, so she didn’t feel the need to look around the ghastly offices for any kind of explanation of why the water on campus was black and why construction stopped and the site was completely abandoned. She only cared about the lonely, reclusive air that hung over the entire school like a thick smoke. Not even the sun could take away the haunted ghost aroma that trickled through the student’s unused lockers.

She loved it all. The solitary confinement was enough for her. She spent most of her waking hours prowling around this particular building just to be alone. And, it gave her the unsettling yet exciting satisfaction of knowing this:

If her parents knew where she was right now, they would probably die. If they knew how she got here they would then rise from the grave and kill her. And to make it better, they had no clue. They’d never know. She’d outsmarted those old fools and she was living her life how she wanted to. They played by old rules. They believed in manors and presentation and good grades and all that dumb unnecessary stuff. She didn’t care for it - she was free here. She was in control. Separated. Different. Unique. And probably depressed, if she was being honest.

Today the school was as it always was - bare and void of life and warmth. Even the sun couldn’t take away the chills down her back. She was particularly fond of an old pole she found out in the fields of weeds and thorns - she spent a lot of time trying to ease her fear of being there by swinging on it, getting lost in the rocking motion.

But today was different. Mainly because of the huge, smiling, random pencil that was somehow balancing perfectly straight in the air.

For some reason she wasn’t at all afraid. It didn’t even occur to her that this pencil (which she could swear was grinning at her) being here was weird, and she never stopped to wonder how it got here. All she knew was that it seemed to call to her. She slowly walked toward it. The pencil’s grin got even wider, if that was possible.

She considered her options. This pencil was kind of creepy. It’s grin was almost malicious, and she was pretty sure it’s eyes were moving. She suddenly had the feeling she was being watched. She glanced around. Wind dove up and around the schoolhouse structures, and the swings creaked and moaned. She suddenly felt a wave of emotion hit her: she felt exposed and vulnerable. And then a split second later, it was gone, and she turned back to the pencil, studying it.

An image flashed through her mind - the cake served at her friend's birthday party last weekend. It was a beautiful cake, with pink design and multiple layers. There had been so many people there that by the time she realized it was being served, all the cake was gone. She frowned at this better memory, and in a second of pure instinct, her legs began moving her towards the pencil. She took the pencil and drew the cake, skepticism written on her face.

She finished her sketch and stepped back to admire her work. It didn’t look a lot like the cake. It was more like a pile of lumpy brownies. But to her surprise, the cake suddenly appeared where her drawing had been and plopped on the ground.

She knelt down and tasted it. Amazing. Just like she’d imagined. She gave the pencil a smile, and then continued to eat.

Then, suddenly, she saw a kite. The very kite flying in the backyard at her friend’s birthday party. Her friend hadn’t let her fly it, but given the other girls a turn. Anger started to churn in her again, and she took the pencil and drew the kite. Two seconds later, there it was.

She couldn’t keep the grin off her face as she ran around the school, waving in the air. The wind blew tumbleweeds and clouds of dust all around her as she danced, the kite waving happily overheard. The pencil’s smile never faded, but again she had a flash of worry. She was exposed. Vulnerable. Then, a moment later, it was gone.

She shook off the worry and headed back towards the pencil. She knew she could have anything she wanted now. She considered for a moment, and a giant lollipop suddenly appeared in her head. Yes, she thought. That seems like a good way to start. She had loved lollipops when she was younger, and her mother would always buy them for her at the store, before money got so tight. It would be her first lollipop in years. She grinned as she drew the spiral shape of the lollipop and ended with a flourish.

The pencil responded immediately, like before. She watched her drawing spin and twist and morph into… not a lollipop, but some kind of… inflatable hole?

Then, all of the sudden, dread poured over her. She was vulnerable. Susceptible. Exposed. All three of those times a million. She looked in horror and several different waves of emotions flooded her brain. Panic. Guilt. Sadness. Worry.

But most of all, she felt as if she’d been tricked.

Then the hole suddenly sucked her in with it. She screamed, and then knew no more.