To sharpen, or no?

This is a punishment. I do not want to be writing this right now. I did something bad, and now I unfortunately have to pay the consequences. The consequences are to write a story about what happened to me. I’m supposed to learn a lesson from this. Maybe I will. I’m not quite sure. I guess I’ll start on my story now because I’m not a very good writer, and this story is going to take a long time. So here it goes:
It all started when the No. 2 Club and I were hanging out outside the Lead Shop one afternoon after a boring day at school to let off some steam. All of a sudden we heard a whirring noise come from the store that had just opened up last week.
“Whoa, what was THAT?!” My friend Tammy asked.
“You don’t know what that was?” Vince said, looking surprised.
“No, come on! Tell me!!”
“Ok, ok, but don’t get scared or anything. It’s kind of a sophisticated topic.”
“OK!!!!! I won’t get scared!! Just tell, me, please!”
“Well,” Vince said in a voice that would be used to tell scary stories, “Most everyone is born with a point of lead, right? Well, SOMETIMES, people want to, well, sharpen that point. It’s kind of like a decoration. It makes you look more exciting.”
“WOW!! That’s pretty cool. I wish I could get one.” Tammy said, looking dreamy.
“I think we should all get them. Right now,” another one of my friends, Carl, chimed in.
“Well, we can’t right now, the shop’s closed, look,” I said.
We all looked over at the pencil sharpening shop that I later found out was called Transfigure my Lead. A Very cool and sophisticated name if you ask me. But nobody is asking me, so that’s a problem.
“Ok, well here’s what I think we should do,” Travis said, “We should all go back to our pencil cases, and ask our parents about it. Then we meet back here at 1:00 tomorrow, and get them done.”
“What if they don’t say yes?” I asked.
“They will, don’t worry,” Travis assured me.
The group then broke up, and began to walk back to our respective pencil cases. When I got to mine, I went straight to my room, and began to think about what had just happened. I was kind of scared. I had only just found out about pencil sharpening. I wasn’t even entirely sure of what it was. Vince hadn’t given the most detailed description of it. What did he mean by, “it’s kind of like a decoration??” I’m a pretty timid guy too. Even if I didn’t want to get a pencil sharpening, somebody would be able to pressure me into doing it. And if I refused, they’d probably just beat me up. That’s how my life is. Do what everybody else says, or get beaten up or shunned away. I have a hard time standing up for myself. My mom finally cut into my thoughts, screaming, DINNER!!!! I erased the thought from my mind, and then went to the kitchen to eat. Before I got all the way there, the phone rang, so I picked it up. It was Travis.
“Hey Paul, I just wanted to let you know that the group has made a unanimous decision that we all have to get a pencil sharpening, and whoever doesn’t, isn’t allowed to be in the group anymore.”
“C’mon Travs, what kind of a decision was that? The group has been together for years and we’re all best friends! Who came up with that idea?? And why wasn’t I part of the idea if it was unanimous?” I answered him angrily.
“Well, first of all, the group is big. You know that. Some of us decided that we might have to trim it down a little bit, that’s all. Yeah, sure we’re all best friends, but we all don’t have to be part of the group, now do we? And nobody could get a hold of you, so we just had to make the decision without you to save time. But it shouldn’t be a problem, should it? Just tell your parents, it’s not that bad.”
“Well, ok, I’ll try.”
“You better. See you tomorrow at the Lead Shop.”
He then hung up. I kind of just stood there. I wasn’t even really sure if I had really wanted to get a pencil sharpening in the first place anyway. But these pencils were my best friends in the world. I decided not to worry about it too much though. My parents would say yes to it, I would go through with it, and that would be the end of it. And of course, I’d still have all my friends. After I hung up the phone, I went to dinner, and after we had been eating for a while, I finally popped the question.
“Hey mom and dad, have you ever wanted make yourself more decorative?”
“Paul, what on earth are you talking about?” My mom asked me.
“Well, the gang and I came up with this idea to all get, ah, a pencil sharpening. What do you think about the idea?”
“ABSOLUTELY NOT,” both of my parents exclaimed in unison.
“But why not?! If I don’t, I’ll be kicked out of the group!”
“Well, that’s a problem, isn’t it?” My dad answered sarcastically.
“Whatever,” I said, and then went to my room, even though dinner wasn’t done yet.
When I got there, I began to think really hard about what to do about my problem. If I didn’t do it, I’d be listening to my parents, but then I wouldn’t have any friends anymore. If I did do it, I’d still have all my friends, but parents wouldn’t be all that happy. I didn’t know what to do. So I decided to do what my impulses told me to do. That wasn’t very smart.
The next day, I went to meet the No. 2 Club at the Lead Shop. Everybody was all excited, and ready to get sharpened. We all felt very old and cool. The worry about my parents being mad went straight out of my head, as well as all of my common sense. When everybody finally arrived, we walked straight over to Transfigure my Lead. It was dark and gloomy inside. There we lots of big, dark objects that made me feel even more scared then I was before. All around me there were mean looking pencils walking around with long points. They looked like they didn’t care about anything at all. Off to the sides of the store were little curtained off rooms. With every second there was another scream that came out of each one. We all formed a line, and finally it was my turn. A female pencil took me into a curtained off room. She was very tall with a disgustingly dirty eraser with little bits of the top coming off that looked like it hadn’t been used in weeks.
“Ok kid, how sharp?” She asked me.
“How sharp?” I asked uncertainly.
“How long do you want your point be?? I don’t have all day,” she asked impatiently.
“As long as it can go,” I said stupidly, acting completely on impulse.
“Ok. I’m about to sharpen your point. Are you sure you want it? And do you have your parents permission?”
“I’m sure. And um, yes, I have my parents permission.” Now I was really scared.
She then picked me up, and put my point into a big machine. It was the biggest thing I think I’d ever seen in my life. Big and dark, it was very intimidating. IT HURT. It hurt REALLY BAD. My scraggly hair slapped my cheeks as my point got bigger and bigger, making me taller and taller. Basically what it was doing was shaving off my skin so that my point would be able to get longer. I was bawling by the time she finally took me out. I looked down. I had seen some pencils with longer points before, but I never thought I’d see one on myself. The sharpening looked ok on my point, I guess. I kind of missed the way it used to look, but I guessed that I’d get used to it.
“Ok kid, you’re done. Go home now,” the female pencil said to me.
I walked out of the shop kind of in shock. It was hard to walk now, as I was a LOT pointier. My friend’s cheered me on as I walked away, but it didn’t quite register. Finally I got back to my pencil case. As soon as my parents saw what I had done, they kicked me out, and wouldn’t let me back in. You have to learn how to be responsible, my parents yelled at me through the closed hard door. I was close to tears now. I begged and begged them to let me back in. They wouldn’t. I waited outside the door for 3 whole days. Only then did my parents finally let me back into the pencil case. I told them about what had happened, and how much I wished I hadn’t done it. I told them that I hadn’t even seen my friends since it had happened. I didn’t want to. I hated them for making me do this. They listened, half sympathetic, half angry. When I was done, my mom began talk.
“Paul, listen. What you’ve done we can't forget, and never will. We’re both extremely angry with you. Although…we’ve decided to let you back into the house, only on the condition that you get rid of your sharpening.”
I agreed. I’m not sure if that was a very smart idea in a way though. This included volunteering at the local human school to be written with, every day, after I got out of my own school. It’s not very enjoyable at all. It includes horrible headaches, and no more free time.
Well, my point is now all the way down, and my punishment is now almost done, because I’m almost done with this story. I guess I have learned a lesson. It’s that my friends sucked, and I should never have listened to them. I also found out that I have a brain up there in my eraser, and I should use it. I don’t have really good friends right now, but I’m getting a lot friendlier with a pencil named Alicia. She’s very nice, and doesn’t pressure me into doing things I don’t want to do like my old friends used to do. I do miss my friends sometimes, but then I remember what they did to me, and I hate them again. I did find this really cool eraser cap at the Lead Shop that I really want though! I might get it later today if my parents let me! I also hope that from this story my parents will see my side of the story, and possibly forgive me a bit more.