A Faerie without wings.

“Hey, Serah. That’s her.” Alyssa motioned with a mouthful of chips. She flipped a loose strand of auburn hair out of her face. “That’s the girl who said she was a faerie.”
I, who had been picking aimlessly at my vegemite sandwich, looked up at her in confusion.
“Who said what?”
“The new girl. Uh, what’s-her-name from um, California.” She whispered. I turned towards where she was gesturing.
“No, don’t look. You’re not supposed to look!” she hissed.
“The one with the blonde hair and frilly pink clothes?” I queried turning my gaze back towards my lunch. Claudia, who I noticed was staring openly at the girl from across the school oval, raised her eyebrows.
“Oh, her?” she replied casually. “I think she said her name was Eve.”
“Yeah, that’s it,” Alyssa cried with sudden realization. “She told the whole class in maths last month. She stood at the front and said: ‘Hi, nice to meet you all. My name is Eve Vondran, and I’m new here. And I should probably let you know that I’m a faerie.’”
”Wow. She just said that?” I stared across the oval, utterly fascinated. Eve was sitting alone under a tall oak tree, wearing a fluffy baby pink jacket over a hot pink shirt and dark pink skirt, topped off with pink and white high top trainers. She had numerous pink accessories, too, covering a majority of her arms and fingers. She had a small pink notebook in front of her, and was scribbling in it furiously. Under her sleek blonde hair, she had stonewashed skin – as fine as porcelain.
“What did the rest of the class do?” I asked.
“Some laughed at her, others threw mean and pointless insults at her,” Alyssa mused. “And then there were the minor few that just stared at her blankly. Ms Devries chose the latter before making her go to the principal’s office.”
“She’s just a weirdo,” Claudia smiled from across the school bench. “I know one when I see one.” Claudia had a bright, white grin that gave the brightness of the moon a run for its money. I, as well as everyone else who met us, often wondered how it was that we were both children with the same parents – who shared the same genetic material – and yet Claudia had received the stunning blue eyes, perfect white teeth and the silky chocolate coloured hair, and I only got the bright red hair – a trait that no one else in the family had – murky green eyes that reminded me of mud, and teeth that were covered in railroad tracks. Braces.
“Her skin seems to sparkle,” Alyssa noted, ticking off her points on her fingers. “She always seems to know what people are thinking. She’s never taken notes in class, nor has she brought any books to take notes in – but she always has that notebook – and she still manages to do all her class work right. And she rarely speaks to anyone. Maybe she is a faerie.”
I sighed. “That doesn’t make her a faerie, Alyssa. It just means she’s unusual, okay?”
“Or a mental patient off her meds,” Claudia added. “Anyway, if she really was a faerie, wouldn’t she have wings, or a wand, or something?” I rolled my eyes.
“C’mon you guys, there’s no such thing as faeries anyway,” I snapped. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t any of their business that she was unusual. “Faeries, goblins, vampires, werewolves, trolls . . . there fake. Not real. They don’t exist.”
“Oh, yeah?” Alyssa retorted lamely. “Well you’d had better tell her that because I think she heard you.” Somewhat surprised, I looked up in Eve’s direction. Sure enough, she was watching me. She had stopped writing in her notebook and even at this distance – about 20 meters – I could see a mixture of disappointment and irritation plastered all over her face.
“Whoa. She looks angry, Sis.”
I could feel Eve’s eyes bore through mine and shoot straight into my brain – as if she was probing the inside of my head. I knew it was pointless but I couldn’t help but think: ‘You won’t find anything of use in my head, Eve. I’m getting D’s and – if I’m lucky – C’s, as it is,’ as if she was really in my head. Alyssa waved her fork in front of my face.
“Helllooo?” She cooed. “Earth to space cadet, Serah?”
I shuddered back to reality. “Huh? Oh, sorry.” I rambled. “Guess I must’ve zoned out.”
“Yeah,” Claudia giggled, “You zoned out while staring at Eve. Someone’s got a girl crush!”
I shrugged. She may be better looking than me, but she sure isn’t as mature as me.
“No, I don’t. But she does have her looks going for her.” I said simply. Repressing the urge to say that she was better looking than Claudia, herself – a fact I knew would make her completely jealous.
“All faeries do.” Alyssa smirked.

Fantasy and Education.

During the train ride home, I couldn’t help but think about faeries. I don’t know much about the fantasy genre: definitely less than the other girlie-girls at my school, who adored faerie romance novels and fantasy movies, as a lot of them have been made recently. That and the fact that my parent thought that those kinds of things were childish. I’ve read one faerie novel before, once about four years ago when I was eleven at my cousins’ house, and surprise, surprise, it was Alyssa who had lent me the book in the first place.

For about the next month following that, I had dreamt about beautiful people with sparkling wings and colourful attire who would turn me into a faerie to escape the pitiful pit of boredom I call my life. My new life would begin in a forest – somewhere exotic – sleeping on toadstools and sipping nectar from nearby roses. It wasn’t long after that, that I had been in a magic store talking to a ‘renowned’ medium of sorts, and pestering mum to allow me to buy books that would allow me to ‘speak’ to the faeries.

I should have known better.

Faeries, magic and the entire fantasy genre didn’t fit in with the ideals my parents had set out for me. My mum had dragged me from that store after giving the ‘medium’ and earful of things no eleven year old should hear, about her tricking me into purchasing from that store and lying etcetera, etcetera.

Faeries, I was informed, were too childish for someone my age and I was too naive to believe in them in the first place; the idea was created by drug addicts and people with too much time on their hands. What my mum really meant, as I realized later, was that faeries, in this day and age, were classified as the time-wasters’ dream, and I wasn’t supposed to even think about anything other than education. Sex, boys and things of a fantasy nature were all bad. Aside from that, unlike Claudia, I was never allowed to socialize – even with a chaperone, or a venue that was public. Claudia is family and Alyssa is my next door neighbor so my parents classify them as ‘exceptions.’ I was forbidden from bringing people home, much less be alone with them away from home. Sometimes I can’t help but wonder why I am allowed to go to school at all, considering that there are people there.

Oh, the shock and horror.

Upon reaching the prison I call home, I entered through the front door and fond my mum in the kitchen, starting dinner early – which wasn’t unusual when she had to work night shifts at the hospital. I slid my bad off my shoulder, onto the floor and propped my elbows up on the counter to watch my mum. Thin and fit for a woman of her age, sporting thick graying brown hair tied back in a high ponytail and an apron cinched around her waist; over her body hugging knee length casual dress. None of the mothers of my friends, even when they did cook, wore an apron – not Alyssa’s, whose mum didn’t know how to make anything other than a toasted cheese sandwich, or my other next door neighbours – little Suzie who walked a similar path to school as me – parents who only give her organic, all natural meals. But my mum is rarely home – because of work – and she feels that it’s the duty of the mother to provide. So she does. In the form of food.

“Hey, Mum,” I greeted. “Can I ask you something…?” Mum half-turned, brushing a loose lock of hair away from her face and smiling. “Sure. What is it?”
“How come you don’t like me getting to close to people?” I asked.
“Oh.” She paused for a moment, stirring the vat of stew on the stove. “Look, Serah, you’re – different.” Mum had said this before, and it was starting to get annoying. “Different how?”
“Well – you can’t deal with people to well.” She said slowly, pursing her lips. I know how much mum hates having this conversation, but I couldn’t stand it. I needed to know. Of course, it was true that I didn’t know how to deal with people to well – I stuttered and babbled around strangers and classmates – but aren’t you supposed to learn through experience? How could I get confident, self-reliant or even mildly sociable, if my parents kept me in a large glass cage and never let me go anywhere or do anything?

“I can handle people perfectly fine,” I pouted. “I would just like to be able to have the choice.” I held my breath.
I shouldn’t have bothered.
“You know how I feel about you being around people,” she sighed. “It’s too risky.” She gave a little shriek as the flame on the stove suddenly went to high and started burning the pot. “Ah! My stew!”

I sighed.

Disappearing Act

In the school library the next day, trying against all odds – that being boredom, the constant ‘tic’ of the library clock and the numerous noisy peers that littered the room – to research books on English Literature between the 1940’s to the late 1960’s, the Modern History of Germany after the Nazi regime and the Science behind Physics, I kept feeling that my mind, as well as my gaze, was drawn towards other books – that had no relation to English Literature, Modern History or any form of Science.

Books that generally had the word fairy or faerie in the title. There were more of them than I originally thought: The Fantasy Realm – Faeries, The Big Book of Fairy Legends, The Enchanted Garden, and Fantastic Faeries. I didn’t think our school library allowed such types of non-fiction on the grounds. I was reaching for the first one when a soft voice spoke from behind me: “”Y’know, most of those aren’t very accurate.” I spun around, surprised. Eve was leaning against a nearby bookshelf, sporting a small smile. Up close, her looks were even more striking; her face was heart-shaped and flawless, like a fashion model seen in one of those masterfully created magazines. Her hair was longer than it looked yesterday and her eyes – upon closer inspection – were just as blue as Claudia’s, if not more, giving the clear blue sky a run for its money. I though of what Alyssa and Claudia had said – that she wore weird clothes, but surprisingly, they actually suited her.

“What aren’t very accurate?”

“Those books.” She stepped forward and took The Enchanted Garden off the shelf. “They’re all just going to tell you the same old thing. That fairies have sparkly wings, have magical powers, live in mushroom houses and are 2 inches tall –” She said matter-of-factly, followed by a roll of the eyes. “And you don’t think that’s true?” My voice came out cracked and I wanted to kick myself for it. Maybe I wasn’t ready for stranger confrontation yet: – maybe – mum was right. Standing this close, I could smell the scent that lingered on her hair and clothes. A faint lavender smell with a hint of citrus, as if she’d been lying in the huge school garden just beyond the school gates.

“I think,” she said. “That for faeries to have been around for such a long time, they must be pretty cunning. Too clever,” she smiled, “to let all their secrets get out. They’d be much safer if they spread false rumours about their lives and culture…” Eve faded out for effect, letting me ponder over her words.

“What makes you think, that faeries are even still around?” I asked, proud that my voice was noticeably more normal sounding.

Eve blinked in surprise. “Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Well,” I breathed, suddenly unsure of where I was going with this conversation. “If they – I mean faeries,” I said, noticing Eve’s disapproval of the way I said they. “Were still alive – around! – I meant around . . . then after all these years of fairytales, stories and legends about faeries and the like, wouldn’t someone have had the audacity or initiative to prove these so called ‘false rumours’ to be true or not?”

Eve gave me the once over, a small smile hinting at her lips. “Well. I guess, that’s possible. But that’s something neither you, the writers’ of those books, nor anyone else will ever know – meaning you’re back to square one.”

“You’re joking, right?” No. That’s not what I wanted to know. I shook my head wanting to change the subject. “Did you really, truly, honestly tell your whole class that you were a faerie?”

Eve’s smile spread from ear to ear. “Maybe I did. You have to admit it’s more captivating than the usual introduction. Don’t you think?”

“Hmmm.” I took the book from Eve and turned to replace the book on the shelf. “I guess it is a little intriguing.”

Eve smiled again and flicked back a loose strand of hair. “If you like intriguing, then I suggest this.” Eve brought out a book from the shelf that I hadn’t noticed before; The Book of Sirona, and handed it to me. “This book has all kinds of faerie legends, tales, magic circles – and even some supposed faerie language. I wouldn’t count on it being helpful to you – at this point,” I wonder what she meant by that. “But at least it looks believable.”

“I’m not sure.” I said taking the heavy leather-bound book from Eve’s outstretched hands, which jingled melodically with all her clinking jewellery. I looked down to study the book. The rough leather was the colour of tree bark, so it didn’t look overly appealing – probably why I hadn’t noticed it (or paid any attention to it) earlier. The title was scrawled in silver, almost unreadable script at the top, giving way for a small black inked magic circle – about the size of my hand – in the middle of the cover. “It all seems kind of…” When I looked back up, Eve was gone. “. . . weird.” I finished, half whispering.

Don’t Touch My Stuff

I stayed in the library for another few hours or so, and read The Fantasy Realm – Faeries. When the final bell for the day rang, I put the book back and hurried back to my locker to grab my bag and found Claudia leaning against it, bopping her head in time to what ever music she was listening to on her iPod. “Claudia!” I called out when I saw her. She jumped almost a foot in the air in surprise. “Don’t do that! You scared the sh-”
“I scared the what?” I asked her with a raised eyebrow, daring her to swear.
“The . . . heck . . . outta me,” she corrected, taking out her earphones was blaring out the latest song by metal/rock band Eternity Night. “So . . . Alyssa said someone saw you in the library today, talking to Eve.”

I opened the locker and pulled out my bag. “Uh-huh,” I admitted bluntly. “So?”

“Um,” Claudia started fidgeting with one of her bag straps. “No reason. I was just wondering,” She paused and looked at her feet. “If she were, y’know –”

“If she really were a faerie?” I finished for her.

Sure Eve was a little weird but this was getting ridiculous. Claudia looked a little confused by my sudden irritation. “Uh, well. Yeah.”

“And what?” I spat slamming my locker shut. “You think that in the middle of the library to a complete stranger like me she’d shed her disguise, show me her wings and go, ‘ooh, guess what? I really am a faerie!’?!?”

Claudia looked as though I’d just slapped her. “W-Well no, I – I mean yeah, but –”

“What? Because she’s weird and a little different, suddenly she’s an entirely different species?” I was practically screaming at her now, but I didn’t care. Groups of students had even stopped to listen in on what we were talking about. What right did she have to judge someone she hadn’t even bothered to get to know?

“Geez! If you’re really so curious, not to mention stupid then go and just ask her yourself?” I finished pointedly.

Jerking my bag up to my shoulders I jumped back in surprise as a book fell from one of the open zips in my bag and hit the floor with a loud thwack! Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Eve standing a few doors down alone, but like the rest of the students in the hall, watching us – watching me.

The expression on her face almost unreadable, but I detected I slight hint of mischievousness in her half-smile.

Claudia immediately bent and scooped up the book. The cover was a vivid blue with a misty purple border, a small circle lock binding the heavy book together and a small abused brass plaque with black cursive, scrawled writing on the front. “Siddia,” she read aloud. Underneath it read: “Lore of Merrow, Gwyllion, Skoggra, Changeling’s & The Fair Lady. What the hell is this?”

I tore my eyes from Eve’s and focused on Claudia.
“Wh-What? I don’t know how they got in there. That’s not even mine.” I paused as I noticed a small piece of pink paper peeking out from my bag.

While Claudia was focused on trying to open the lock, I plucked the piece of paper from my bag.
In a beautiful handwritten script was one word.

Enjoy.

Impressum

Tag der Veröffentlichung: 04.11.2011

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