Hidden Monster

by Amanda Strong

  ***

  “Argh…” I growled at my laptop. What I’d hoped would be an easy Google search turned into a frustrating half hour of wading through useless information.

  Finding nothing under ‘Tonbo,’ I tried Tombo. According to Wikipedia, it was a small island off the tip of Guinea. Not great at geography, I’d typed that in next: a country in West Africa. What does Blake have to do with West Africa? My hunch said nothing.

  I’d even tried the word Tonbo by itself. The way Kory’s friend had talked about it, it sounded like Tonbo might be a person. That had led to Japanese cartoon characters. Sitting on my bed, I stared at my keyboard. Nothing was fitting together. I continued to scroll through the Tonbo choices. A website popped at me.

  “Tonbo-Dragonfly-Japanese Art,” I read aloud. Curious, I clicked on it. The first thing I learned was the word tonbo meant dragonfly in Japanese. Well, that’s interesting. Not very helpful, though.

  I scanned through the Japanese writings anyway, desperate to make some kind of connection. The calligraphy was foreign but beautiful. Realizing I didn’t know what any of it meant, I decided on a new tactic.

  I typed in dragonflies. Page after page depicted the winged insect in all its variations, colors, and forms. Studying the iridescent wings, I felt a tingle in the middle of my back. They were similar to what my wings had looked like. Could it be possible?

  I closed my eyes, willing those muscles to work, longing to feel the freedom it brought. Nothing. I opened my eyes. Still just me—painfully human. Just as well. What would I have done if I had transformed? We’d just had dinner and my parents thought I was doing homework. Not a good idea to be flying around my room when my mom comes to check on me.

  I glanced back down at the screen; one line caught my eye. ‘Symbolism of the dragonfly.’ I opened the page and read. Five minutes later, I sat back, eyes wide. The article spoke of the agility of the dragonfly’s wings, the power in its stroke, the strength in its form, the incredible speed in flight, its affinity for water and ability to be one with it, and the incredible eyesight…

  Hadn’t I felt all those things flying? I thought of my four wings; they appeared to be wispy, yet I knew them to be firm and tenacious in flight. I stared at the images of dragonfly wings. Deciding to try one more search, I typed in five letters: fairy. Maybe there was some kind of mythical dragonfly fairy.

  Magical winged creatures, mostly female, filled my screen. From dark and sinister to cute and cartoon; there was a wide range of fairy classifications and art. After searching through the different wings—short and pointy, draping and long, birdlike with feathers, butterfly-esque, I finally found one that resembled mine.

  Red locks flowed down her back and four insect-like wings emerged from her back. The caption under the photo said, ‘Long Lady, Dragonfly Fairy.’

  So what am I? Some sort of dragonfly fairy? What does that even mean… that fairies are real?

  I spent another twenty minutes or so reading about Fairy, or Fae, folklore and legends. They were often mischievous, causing mayhem for humans, and had mystical abilities and magic. As for humans suddenly becoming a fairy, the only thing I could find was the lore of fairies switching their babies out for human ones. The person grew up thinking they were normal until one day they realized they were different. Then they discovered they were really a fairy and their parents weren’t really their mom and dad.

  Thinking how my sisters and I all had the same brown eyes, I sort of doubted that was what happened to me. Unless we’re all fairies. I laughed aloud. This is ridiculous! I need answers. Only problem was, I had no idea where to get them.