The low whisper of the pages was music to my ears. Its soothing familiarity had a calming effect on my confused soul, and yet any adequate answers I wished for eluded me.

In all the books I have perused, no answers were present, and I found that exasperating. Surely another mortal had encountered this incredible power in the past, yet I had no intellectual proof that such power even existed.

I would have concluded that I was going mad, if not for the proof, in the form of poor Rebecca's destiny. All the events that have occurred could not represent an enormous coincidence.

As frustration was becoming the most predominant emotion in my heart, I decided to halt my quest for the time being and inquire about my friend's health. Though K was gracious enough to inform me that Rebecca's condition was stable, I decided to attempt to demonstrate emotional support to both of them.

I hastily returned the books and rushed to the hospital. Though there was no need for swiftness, I was feeling suffocated by my mind, thus assumed that by helping K in his time of need, I would divert my attention for the vexation that consumed my soul.

The moment I reached the dull hospital hallway, I found K sitting dejectedly on one of the chairs, utterly alone. I felt as if I was intruding on a private moment since I had never encountered K in such a vulnerable state.

Even in dire situations, he had always managed to keep up an upbeat attitude, and I admired him for that. Yet, I should have taken into consideration that he was human and that the burden my hands lay on his shoulders was bound to crash him.

"K," I called out to him with all the gentleness that my heart could muster, though God knows I have not been the kindest person in the world.

"Oh, Shawn, my man. I didn't hear you coming," he said, jumping from his chair like a child who was caught doing something they should not.

I pretended not to notice him wiping away the moisture from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt as I settled down in the nearby chair.

"How is she faring? How about you, are you doing well?" I asked.

"She is hanging on. I am peachy, don't you worry about me. Besides, the new doctor even allowed me to see her," he said.

Before I could inquire of him to elaborate on the peculiar sentences that he pronounced, his friends appeared out of nowhere and commenced an incredibly dull banter. Thus, I decided to retreat surmising that Rebecca's condition was as well as it could be under the given circumstances.

Once I arrived home, I decided to set to work immediately. Seeing the depth of K's pain had touched me to my core, and I was determined to help as soon as humanly possible.

I brewed a cup of strong tea, setting the cup near my writing station, and commenced the tiring task of writing. I had to find just the perfect words that would not only accelerate Rebecca's recovery but also provide me with what I believed I deserved, my family.

The moment my hand touched the pen, I became absorbed in the world of possibilities that was my imagination. Though the pen had power over my mind, I was able to assert far more control than ever before.

Thus, I was able to insert more details to make the storyline clear and concise and yet as realistic as possible. After all, I was writing the story of our lives, and it had to be as perfect as humanly possible.

Fortunately, the pen appeared more in tune with my needs and allowed me a few moments of rest in which I sipped my tea and contemplated the further development of the story.

It felt as if the pen and I were learning more about one another with every written word. Perhaps we were developing a companionship, a dependent relationship with each other on a much grander scale than I could comprehend.

After hours of writing, tweaking, editing, it was finally finished, and I was satisfied with the living breathing thing that lay before me, my baby. It was my story, my life.

I stretched my arms as bones cracked in protest of hours spent in the same position and could not help but smile at the wonderous pen for helping me accomplish such an astonishing task.

"Thank you for the beauty you allowed to flow through my hand," I said, still in a daze.

"You are most welcome," the pen wrote on a blank piece of paper leftover from my writing frenzy.

"When will it start," I wondered, as I ambled around the apartment to return some feeling to my numb extremities.

The abnormally loud sound pulled me out of my silent reverie as I hurried to prevent the wretched device from damaging my hearing.

"Shawn, great news! She is awake! The doctor said she'll pull through without any permanent damage." K yells the moment I answer the call.

"That is splendid news my boy! Splendid news indeed!" I replied.

"Do you wish me to join you at the hospital?" I asked.

"No need. The new doctor says that she'll transfer her home and continue healing her there since she lives in our building and has the necessary equipment," he said.

My prayer that it was not Marisol, the kind soul whom I offended beyond measure, is interrupted by my sudden realization of how odd what he was saying was.

Was my book the one who caused the events to take such a sudden and strange turn? I was not sure to which extent it was the pen and to which extent the odd ways of this era.

"That appears strange. Are these common practices in this ti... in this city?" I inquired.

"No, not at all, but the hospital is full at the moment, and they need all the free beds they can get. There was a big accident with many victims, and the injured keep pouring in. That's why they approved the transfer so easily." K said.

My heart dropped as I wondered if I had caused yet another terrible accident. However, I dismissed the thought since I've been more careful than ever in my wording.

"When should I expect your return?" I queried.

"Later today, tomorrow at the latest. That's why I am calling you. Could you get to Rebecca's and rearrange things for easier access?" he asked.

"K, I do not possess a way to gain entrance to her abode. Besides, I am not certain what is required of me if I do manage to enter," I said.

"No worries man. She said to tell you that the spare key is under the welcome mat, and I'll walk you through the rest of it," he said.

Knowing that this was what I had to do if we were all to receive what we needed, I agreed immediately. To my surprise, with K's guidance, everything went smoothly.

I should have known that the calm was temporary. However, as I once said: "What makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes