Proulouge- Faylinn Lorelle

She believed in dreams, wishes, and pixie dust. She kept her eyes open for them, kept her heart open. She believed in a happily-ever-after ending and love at first sight. She believed in living life happily. She grew fond of the thought of happiness.

They thought of her as naive, as an immature child. They looked down upon her unwanted happiness. They turned their noses away from her explanations.

She didn't give up; not in the world she grew up in. She kept believing in those wishes, miracles, and pixie dust.

Her heart was set on believing that the images she saw in her mind's eye were real, even if to others they weren't.

The girl believed in wishes, and pixie dust. She still does.

Her name is Faylinn Lorelle.

And this is her story.

Chapter One

A thin girl looked at the chalk drawing beneath her, studying it carefully. Her mind memorized each little detail that was splayed before her. She shook her head, her wavy blonde white hair moving with the motion, and grabbed the bucket of water beside her and poured the water onto the ground, erasing the image.

Thoughts of a certain person kept coming to her mind as she turned around. She could still smell the scent of the cigars he smoked as he drew her a picture. She would sit by him as watch him. Those rough hands that held her at night while she cried and hid from the shadows drew the master pieces she loved.

Her mouth formed a straight line as she gathered her materials and moved to a dry spot. With a piece of white chalk, she drew the outline of a figure. One that was thin like her. The drawing began to grow wings in front of her, with a rainbow of colours. The eyes, as the girl got to them, watched the girl.

A child, a few years younger than the girl, stood off a bit, watching the girl move about the picture, bringing it to life.

"Miss. Miss." The boy spoke quietly at first, but grew louder as he tried to get her attention. "Miss!"

The girl looked up, glaring at the boy. She stood, brushing off the chalk that had gotten onto the sundress she wore. She stood five feet and two inches tall, all skin and bones, with fair pale skin. Her facial features were sharp and her blue eyes looked disappointingly at the boy.

"What?" She asked. The boy flinched at the harsh tone.

"You are a very good drawer." He replied quietly. She made a noise and quickly went back to the image on the ground.

The boy didn't leave as she began to draw again. After a while, she looked up. "Artist."

The boy tilted his head in question.

"Drawer isn't a description. Artist. That's what I am." She sat back on her bare heels and stared at him. He looked away uncomfortably.

"Well, you are good miss."

"Faylinn." He looked at her. She stood up and collected her things. "My name is Faylinn."

And she walked away from the boy who had given her the company she secretly wanted.

---------------

"Daddy, what am I?"

"A pretty fairy. A beautiful one."

"I am?"

"Yes, Faylinn. And your my fairy."

"Daddy, do I make wishes come true?"

"You do. You do."

Daddy....where are you?

Impressum

Bildmaterialien: http://piotr18wch.deviantart.com/
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 10.04.2012

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Widmung:
"You never have to grow up. You only have to take responsibility." -Mark Davis. To everyone who has supported me throughout this journey.