My Penpal นิยาย & เรื่องราว

It’s more like the generic hold music you get when you call customer service, pleasant enough, but you’re just waiting for it to end. My name is Penelope Jones. Everyone calls me Penny, probably because “Penelope” sounds like someone who owns a yacht and knows which fork to use for salad. I do not own a boat. I own approximately seven pairs of scrubs, a coffee maker that’s on its last legs, and a laptop that’s seen more werewolf smut than any piece of technology should have to endure.

A stack of yellowing letters scattered across the floor. I squatted down to pick them up. When I saw the familiar handwriting on the envelopes, I was thunderstruck, frozen in place. That was my handwriting. The recipient of every letter was addressed by the same code name—"Mr. Z." And the sender was "H." Those were the letters I sent through an anonymous pen pal club during high school to relieve the pressure of being the family heir. At that time, I poured all my confusion, pain, and longing for the future into letters to that mysterious "Mr. Z."

Ari's still looking at me, ignoring Brad's departure, "But, Dina, if you don't have a phone, how do you contact your parents? Your friends?" "I don't have friends." I tell her, then hesitantly adds, "Well, I have one friend. We're not talking right now, though. I send her and my parents letters instead of text messages." I turn away, embarrassed. I don't know why I just shared that with her. "OMG. I would love that too!" Ari exclaims so loudly, it scared the wits out of me. "Oh please, can we be pen pals? I've always wanted one. Can we? Please, please, please."

“In the past you were all about women. Did prison made you switch, or is there something you have to tell me?” I hadn’t even noticed the smile on my face until my mom touched the corner of my lips. Only one woman had this kind of effect on me, and that was Elena. “I met someone,” I told my mom. “Well, I haven’t exactly met her yet, but we will—soon.” “She was my pen pal, and we have been writing each other emails, and she’s so easy to talk to.” I shared. “I asked her to meet me in a few days, and if she feels the same way I do, she’ll do it.”

The girl walked away with a happy face. This is once in a lifetime! They who can't buy it since they were still students! Somehow, the school went crazy. They, who saw something on social media! "The pen! The worlds no. 1 pen!" Then they commented on the post. Then thousands of likes, comments and shares within seconds! The best brand in the world— Haneng! Never did they know where. But the second post was uploaded! The girl with a male face posted in front of her room. As it says— CNHS 1-A!

“Lorenzo... Rom—” Before I can finish, a small voice pipes up from behind me. “That’s me.” I turn and find a boy standing by the hallway, holding a sketchpad. His dark brown eyes study me curiously, his hair tousled like he’s just woken up from a nap. He’s probably around six or seven. I smile gently. “Hi, Bryan. I’m Penelope.” He shuffles closer, still clutching his sketchpad. “Are you the girl who makes pretty necklaces?”

“Tell me about your life, did you work in the pack house all your life?” Pen chuckled and shook her head, “No. I once had a beautiful home ,two loving parents,great education, a sibling and a mate.” My eyes widened,“A mate?” Pen nodded. “ I was young, naive and expectant. I thought I would be ready to face the world with my mate once I was done with highschool. However, it was the opposite of everything I imagined.” “Why? What happened?” I asked curiously.

"Stephen, how can you treat me like this?" For years, Stephen had been Joey's rock. Whenever they disagreed, Joey would bring up the past, and Stephen would always cave. This time, however, his attitude was cold and unyielding. Joey scrambled off the hospital bed, grabbing Stephen's sleeve. "You can't just listen to Carter's side of the story! I was bullied in high school, had no friends, no one to confide in. To cope, I started writing to a pen pal. That's why Carter has those letters—he was my pen pal!"

I love this fruit in all its forms. Mich sees me and smiles. The reason, the image people have of me is different from who I really am. I sip my drink, fiddling with my phone. I go into my messages, not knowing why I stop at Penelope's name. I smile at the thought of knowing I'm going to write to her and imagine her rolling her eyes at the sight of my name on the screen. "Calvin: Hi Penelope. " "Penelope: Hi, you big jerk. "

Hey Ava, Sorry I haven’t written. I’ve been super busy lately. I’m glad that you’ve settled in with your dad and I hope everything is going well for you there. I am going to be in the area in the next few weeks and I was hoping we could get together. I hate only communicating over emails, even though that’s the only way that we’ve ever done it. Your mom did the write thing by setting up this pen pal by email. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you over the last couple of years. But I think we should meet in person. Let me know what you think. See ya soon.