I wrote an entry for a contest by Skipper_019. The prompt was to write a paragraph from the pov of one of a couple of inanimate objects listed.

(ngl I'm rlly proud that I managed to make this one gay)

I glide across smooth, white paper. I write what I am commanded to write- I write of the girl's hopes and dreams, I write about how her day was, I write about her friends and her family and so much more. The smooth, white, paper I write upon has become her closest confidant. The paper and I hear about the good and the bad: the time she kisses a girl and the time her parents find out, the time her friends offer her love and support and the time her parents threaten to disown her, the time her grandparents hear what's happening and drive halfway across the country just to chew out her mother and the time her life is uprooted to follow them back across half the country. I write what I am commanded to write, but I wish I had the power to do more. If I had the power to rewrite her story, make it less sad, give her a happy ending, I would. But I can't. I'm just a pen. I write what I am commanded to write.