The Dangers of the Pen

Chapter 7

I slowly, cautiously walk over to my desk, shocked at the sight of my desk, or more what's ON my desk. I come closer as the smell slowly overwhelms me, but that doesn't matter now, all that matters is this flower. Is this some kind of prank? Did someone sneak into my room, put this fake flower on my desk and spray my room with pollen?? No,very unlikely. And I don't think fake flowers can stand without a pot anyways, that's why the standing type are always sold in pots. I reach out and feel the leaves. They're real, not some fake fabric thing they use as an excuse for leaves, but real leaves.

The petals and center, and pollen, I get pollen on my fingers. It's real, this flower is real, growing from this page... no, wait. Where's my drawing of a tiger lily that I drew earlier before going downstairs for dinner. I left the page in the center of desk, yes my messy desk, that I kinda cleared to draw this.

I search the desk for that page, and then realize that the page was under my nose the whole time. I look at the page that I saw earlier, the page that the flower was growing from. I see faint outlines, pencil marks, not even HB pencil marks, F, maybe B pencil marks, so faint, but still visible marks of writing, my writing, my handwork only the colour, marker all of the real work, drained away, drained to create the, the... the 3D model of my simple drawing for fun...

How is this possible?! I, I have, made, h-have created a l-l-livin-ng element. A flower, that was a drawing. That's now in real life. W-w-what, is this sick, what the heck?? i'm , i'm freak-, no, why, how, what. Me. Why me?

No, ok Anna, calm down. This can't be... I can create living things by drawing them... I can draw reality... wait... WHAT ABOUT MY OTHER DRAWINGS???? Oh no, oh no, OH NO!!! Ok where's that blue folder. I scavenge my drawers not caring what a mess i'm making of my gorgeous, newly organized drawers. I just need that folder, all of my artworks are in there, all of my drawings, paintings, chalk, ALL of my art was in that folder!!! No, no where was it!!!!! Ah!!!! OK, ok, deep breaths. In. out. In. out. Open folder...

Pages, as I feared... empty. Yes, all with the B, F pencil lines, outlines, but.... Empty.

No, no what is going on??? I, I, this is... No wait, wait wait. A page sticks out from the pile of over 100 pages, I check it. It's a packet of pages, stuck together by a sticky-note (classic me) it's labeled: Doodles, and they're full, the paes have art on it, they have my doodles from the previous years. Ok, so, so what does this mean? I can create, draw the reality, but it has to be still life, or animals plants, etc. doodles won't become reality ok, ok, I need to calm down... why am I freaking out even? I can draw reality, I have a talent, no... power. This is as if i'm Madeline from No Capes! (I just finished the book and i'm absolutely in LOVE!!!). Only in her world, Supers are a normal thing, here? I'm in a normal world, no Supers, no powers, nothing special, unusual.

Ok, let's take this from the top: I (13 year-old Anna Ryans) can create, draw reality. But it only come to life if it's still life or something real, doodles do not count.

Ok. Ya i'm freaking out. WHAT????!!!!! HOW IS THIS POSSIBLE??? I start stepping backwards, away from my desk, away from this... magic. Step after step I take, stepping away from my desk, but keeping my eyes glued to the desk. Suddenly my foot gets caught on something. I trip, start falling, falling backwards and then I feel arms, arms catching me, breaking my fall, maybe saving me from a minor concussion even. Then the back of my head seems to come in contact with what seems like concrete, concrete in the middle of my room with arms, that's something new. What no, what's going on?? Then the smell. Salt water. The smell overwhelms me and my eyes start to sting. Then I hear the voice. The fluent beautiful voice of... "It takes ten times as long to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart"

Finnick Odair. I shift my head, and gaze up to see the tall figure of the one and only Finnick Odair. There was this time when I was absolutely OBSESSED with The Hunger Games, and once when I was playing truth or dare with some friends, the topic was Hunger Games, and someone dared me to draw the Finnick Odair with his famous quote: "It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart" and also, he was kinda my celebrity crush at one point... but then I saw Newt from the Maze Runner... ya ok, back to now. Finnick, was holding me in his arms. In my house. In my room. In his 75th Quarter Quell outfit. With his trident... WITH HIS TRIDENT???!!!! Omg, no no. I push myself up, out of his arms and step back, staring at him. "Prim you're dressed weird, where'd you get the clothes?" he says, staring at me, looking intently, waiting for me to answer. I stumble backwards, yet to fall again, and yet again to have Finnick catch me, only this time catching my arm, when I was near a 50 degree angle. "Prim, what's with the clumsiness?" he chuckles, and pulls me to my feet. I can't help but stare, i'd created a replica. An exact replica of the one and only, Finnick Odair from the Hunger Games, Catching Fire. Suddenly I break from my thoughts and register what he's saying, asking me. He thinks i'm Prim. Finnick thinks that i'm Primrose Everdeen from the Hunger Games, as in Katniss's younger sister!!!!