"Pick a Word, Paint a Story #13"

Hello Hindwhale community! I hope this post finds you good in health. This week I bring very interesting story. I choose the word "Pen" for painting a story. Life is like a pen, it writes our story and many more. This is the story of a special pen that became more than just a tool for me. It was my companion and my voice. But one day, it stopped working, teaching me a lesson I’ll never forget. Thanks @senehasa for this lovely topics. Life is strange. Sometimes small things teach us big lessons. Today, I want to tell you the story of a pen. A pen that didn’t just write but understood the emotions of the one who used it.

Freepik

This is the story when I was in college. I have always loved writing and I would buy a new pen before every exam. It was my little habit to starting a new journey with a new pen.
One day, I bought a special pen from a stationery shop. It was black, slim and felt perfect in my hand. The moment I held it, I knew it was not just any pen. It was different therefore its be a part of my story. I came back home and wrote the first line in my diary with it:
A new journey begins today.
After a few days, I started to see this pen as more than just a tool. I wrote down my ideas, happiness, grief, and dreams using it. I always felt connected to it when I used it. It was like a silent friend always ready to express my feelings on paper.

Freepik

Then came the final exam of college. I was nervous like others students. When I received my paper, I got my paper, I took out my pen and started writing. First answer, done. Second answer, done. Third answer, done. But when I reached the most important question, my pen stopped working.
I tried everything, also shook it, I checked it's ink, pressed harder but all in vain. My heart started racing. The pen that had always been with me was now refusing to write in my tough time.

Freepik

For a moment, I felt failure in exams. How could this happen? It had never failed me before. It was no choice for me, I borrowed another pen and continued writing. But it didn’t feel the same. The connection was missing.
After the exam, I picked up my old pen and looked at it. It was as if it had completed its journey with me. That day, I learned something important life is like a pen. It keeps writing our story until one day, it stops. The question is, what have we written?

Freepik

Even today, that pen sits on my bookshelf. It reminds me that everything has an end, but what we write our memories, our experiences, our words stay forever.
So friends do you have pen like that? Answered me in comments.