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Ștefania Marta Irimia is participating in the 5th International Literary Creation Competition, from Popești-Leordeni, Romania and she is 17 years old. She is a student at the National Bilingual College ”George Coșbuc” Bucharest. We thank for the participation and wish her success.

An Enchanting Pen-Pal

        I lay out the writing utensils and stickers necessary for writing my letter. I’ve been trying to up my game with more flavorful phrases, better gifts and letters, but no matter how well I think I do, she always manages to send an even more special one. Honestly, it’s rather irritating.
        “Dear Tallulah,
I hope this letter finds you well. The weather in England has sure been horrid these last couple of days…”
       No, that’s not it. I use the eraser that was supposed to resemble a lion. After this whole ‘pen-pal’ thing started, however, poor things’ head got completely shaven off.
       How does one even respond to such a letter? While I send candy and little charms, she sends the loveliest seashells with iridescent linings, pearls and antique jewelry. While my letters consist of weather forecasts and news about my life, hers have poems, little legends about great sea masters and giant sharks that devoured villages, along with the weirdest affirmations, like: “Boats are a menace”, or “Human feet sure are weird, aren’t they?”.
      I mean, sure. Feet are weird, I guess. It’s just that I find her priorities regarding what her letters contain quite… bizarre. Or maybe I’m the weird one. She probably thinks I’m terribly boring with my torturous weather forecasts.
      Either way, when our headteacher announced this ‘pen-pal’ activity we were to do with other students all around the world, I was more than skeptical: finals were in seven months, and we were expected to sit around writing letters to some other kid on the opposite side of the globe? Seriously now.
       But, the more letters I got from her, the more I started to enjoy it. It’s helpful to have a distraction from the impending arrival of finals, and her little gifts make the most attractive room decor. I also found myself giggling at her monologues on sea creatures, so I guess I could say that the headteacher was right: this activity was worth a try.
       I just wish I could be as eccentric as she is in her letters. I whip out another sheet of paper and get to work.

      Finals are now one month away. To distract myself from the stress, I open the wrinkly envelope of Tallulah’s letter:
      “Dearest Mia,
I’m awfully sorry to hear that the weather doesn’t comply with you. I do see, however, that you like my gifts! I’m so pleased that you decided to put the shells on display on your bookshelves. Just be careful, though- yesterday the cat almost knocked one over!”
      My gaze rips from the paper and towards the shells. A shiver runs down my spine, as I gently place the unfinished letter on my desk. 
       How in the world does she know what I did with them? I sure didn’t tell her. Also, how does she know about the cat? I sure didn’t tell her that either, since the cat’s not mine! My uncle left Mittens over because he’s away on vacation!
      “Something smells fishy here” I mumble. Just as a precaution, I grab the shells and place them in a drawer, which I then close shut. The letter continues:
      “I also saw that you’re in need of a new eraser, so I took the liberty of gifting you a new one. There were so many shapes and colors to choose from, I was so overwhelmed! Humans sure are dramatic hoarders, aren’t they?”
      Alright, that’s enough. 
      I rush to the living room. While waving the stained letter and sprinkling sand everywhere, I tell my parents about the seashells, the uncle’s cat, and about how Tallulah knew everything she wasn’t supposed to know.

      My communication with Tallulah was discontinued. After hearing about what happened, the headteacher was absolutely revolted.
      I threw away the seashells (which made me sad despite their true nature), and all the other objects she gifted me those months we chatted. I told my parents that I also threw the letters away, even though I kept them.
      I am furious about what happened. And not only because I was stalked, but also because I was fond of my pen-pal. Why did she have to ruin it?
      Me and my family had in plan to visit Chile after my finals, as both a treat after the exams but also an opportunity for me and Tallulah to meet. But that was before my friend turned out to be a creepy stalker. At first, my parents wanted to cancel the trip, but I wasn’t going to let Tallulah also ruin my vacation. I insisted that we go, and it worked.
      So, here I am, staring at the Pacific Ocean in its’ vast magnificence. Honestly, I get why Tallulah was so passionate about the creatures and stories within- it looks endless, as if a whole universe is waiting to be discovered within its’ deep, terrifyingly beautiful waters.
      I look at the postal box my letters used to be delivered at. It’s curious, because it’s so rusty and old that nobody would expect it to still function. It’s even weirder how it’s far away from any neighborhood- I had to venture through pathless fields with overgrown greens to get here. I guess she really was a spy.
      Suddenly, the steady waves of the ocean fasten, and the water splits, making way for a creature to step out of it. Her blueish skin shimmers beneath the light of a dawning sun. She takes slow, steady steps. 
      Peering into the empty postal box, her silver eyes gleam, and her eyebrows curve in disappointment. I take a hesitant step back, but the rustling noise I make doesn’t go unnoticed.
      The creature sharply turns her head towards me, and as she approaches realization hits me like an arrow in the back: the large webbed feet, the seashell jewelry, the earrings I sent her in the last package before the discontinuation… It was Tallulah.
       She reveals a sharp set of teeth in a wide smile. Apparently, she knows me too. Well- of course she does. She spied on me.
      “Mia! My queen! No need for a disguise now, you can show your true self- There’s no humans around. Just me, your humble guard, who has been surveilling you with loyalty.”
      I stand still and stare at the girl. She’s almost too shiny to look at, with those shimmery scales. I open my mouth, and then close it again. I am completely flabbergasted. Tallulah notices my confusion, and arches her eyebrow:
      “You are Mia, right?”
      I can’t really begin to process what is in front of me. I just stare in disbelief at her ghostly face. Apparently, that was enough of an answer for her.
      “Sorry, honest mistake. I thought you were someone else.”
      Honest mistake? My jaw drops, but she just turs around and heads back to the shore.
      “If you don’t mind, though, I’ll keep these.” She points to the earrings I gifted her. “They’re really nice.”
       Before she enters the ocean, she mumbles a set of complaints I manage to hear a part of:
      “Stupid humans, don’t they know the name Mia means ‘ocean goddess’? Why in Megalodon’s name would you name your offspring after something they’re not? I have to find Mia. The real Mia, that is. She’s still out there in her disguise, poor thing. Must be so difficult for her to survive with those feet…”