At 12 years old, I was extremely shy. My first night in Hopeland Village was eerily quiet yet somehow loud enough to keep me awake. I shared the room with two other kids: a boy named Jonah, whom I had already connected with, and a girl who seemed like she might be quite a handful, based on the array of items around her bed.

I found myself in the less-than-ideal position of having the middle bed, as both of my roommates had a tendency to talk in their sleep. Jonah, in particular, possessed an incredibly vivid imagination. His sleep was filled with dreams where he was a gleaming golden knight, embarking on quests or fleeing from enormous spiders and monsters, making my nights more entertaining than tedious.

This brings us to the girl in the neighboring bed, Ashley. She seems to draw a lot of attention, evidenced by her cubby holding more items than Jonah's and mine put together. Beside her, a well-dressed man sleeps peacefully on the couch. Jonah has referred to her as his girlfriend on multiple occasions, though she denies it every time he mentions it. I found this ongoing exchange quite amusing.

My parents wouldn't return until morning, rendering my initial night in Hopeland Village somewhat lackluster. As time passed, my irritation mounted, with the quiet in my head plunging me into a whirlwind of feelings. Then, out of the quiet surrounding me, a voice broke through.

"You can't sleep?" Jonah asked.

"It seems you're awake too. Though, you were just running from a giant spider a few moments ago."

Jonah grinned. "My dreams are incredibly vivid. At times, it's hard for me to distinguish if they're real." Suddenly, his excitement surged. Jonah got up from his bed, his face illuminated by a broad smile.

"I've got an idea. Let's come up with a system to alert me whenever the angel nurse comes to check on you."

His suggestion struck me as odd. "I'm not sure how that would work if you can't see her. Plus, I often don't pay attention to my surroundings when she's here."

"Well, that idea is a bust."

A rustling noise came from Ashley's side of the room. The rooms are divided by sliding partitions that afford us privacy. Ashley slid her partition open, intrigued by our conversation.

Ashey, with a sleep mask, pushed up to her forehead, emerged in front of her curtains. "You do realize it's past midnight, don't you? I can hear every word you say."

"We didn't intend to disrupt your sleep, princess. We'll be more careful next time."

"Now that you've chased away my sleep, I'm curious about your scheme to detect when the Godmother shows up."

Her remark took me by surprise. It seemed that The Godmother was more popular than I thought. "Have you seen her?"

She removed the mask from her head, brushing her hair back from her face. "You're joking, right? Of course, I've seen her. But I want nothing to do with her. I'm not ready to die."

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"So, you're aware that her appearance means your time is nearly over?" I asked.

Ashley's tense behavior softened, and she lowered her head. "The thought of dying terrifies me. I hardly see my parents anymore. Once I was diagnosed with Leukemia, I was brought here, far from my home."

"My parents make an effort to visit daily, or at least my mother does."

"It's good they do that. My parents, however, manage a multi-million-dollar business, so their visits are less frequent. I do wish I could see them more often."

I sensed a deep sadness in her words. At that moment, the idea of using the Godmother's pen to introduce more joy into Ashley's life crossed my mind.

"Ashley, can I trust you with a secret?"

"Absolutely, you can."

I reached under my pillow to where the pen was hidden. Searching for it proved to be a challenge, but I eventually managed to find it.

Growing impatient, Ashley sat on my bed. "Sam, what's the secret?"

When I revealed the Godmother's pen, her eyes widened in surprise. "Is that what I think it is?"

I nodded, observing Jonah's puzzled expression. Ashley swiftly grabbed the pen from my hands, examining it closely. "Wow. I never imagined I'd get to see it this up close."

Jonah's frustration grew because he couldn't perceive the artifact the way we could. "Ash, I don't see anything in your hands."

She reached out, switching on the light behind my bed. "What about now? Can you see it?"

"No, I still can't see anything."

I intervened in the discussion, aiming to dissolve the room's growing tension and provide a logical reason for Jonah's inability to see the pen. "He's not as close to his time as we are, Ashley. That's probably why he can't see it."

"Maybe," Ashley said, her attention now on the pen's three-wheel dial. "Wow, 989 words? I've only ever heard of the pen being capable of granting one wish written with a few words."

"It's a complicated story. I've been encountering the Godmother for some time. Initially, I didn't understand; she took on the form of different children. But once I arrived here, she showed herself as an elderly woman."

Ashley's face lit up with curiosity. "So, are we going to use it or not?"

"We need to respect a crucial rule. She advised me that the wish must hold importance for everyone it affects, or it might not turn out as intended—it could lead to an unforeseen result. Perhaps we should begin with a modest request, such as wishing for your parents to visit you."

Her eyes widened, and tears started to stream down her face. "Would you really do that for me?"

"Absolutely. We're bunk buddies, right?"

She quickly moved to embrace me in a hug. Writing a wish on her behalf could soften her attitude towards us.

I glanced around the room, recognizing the need for a piece of paper to write her wish. "I need a piece of paper."

"How about a notebook? Will that work?" Ashley asked.

"I think that should work just fine."

Ashley retrieved a notebook from her cubby and sat next to me, laying the notebook on my lap. "Hold on. Do you think I should be the one to write the wish?"

"We can give it a shot."

She took the pen and started to write the wish, but no ink flowed from the pen. "It's not working," she said.

"What were you trying to write?" I asked her.

"I wished that my parents had less work so they could spend more time with me. But the pen isn't producing any ink."

I took the pen from her, touched the paper with its tip, and instantly, the ink began to flow. "It seems it only allows me to write with it. The Godmother handed this pen to me, so perhaps it's designed to work only in my hands."

"Ok that's fine," Ashley said. "Do it quickly or we are going to get caught."

I started to inscribe Ashley's wish in her notebook. "I wish Ashley's parents had less work and more time to visit her." After writing it down, I covered the wish with my hands and softly said, "This I wish from my heart." As I spoke, the ink started to fade away.

A smile formed on Ashley's face as she watched the ink vanish from the paper.