by Winter, Eden
I will do my best not to waste your time. I don’t have much time myself whilst in this state of an almost-spinning world coupled with visions and racing thoughts.
It all started when I met Peter, or was it later on when I met Baylee, Reginald, Delilah, or Philomena? It was definitely before I met Eli. There was a chance that it could have even been when I decided to get a pet, and the person who gave her to me had shifty, knowing eyes. They knew that the black cat was more than just your average everyday house cat. By the time I found out myself, the shifty-eyed shop owner was nowhere to be found. So, I had a cat on my hands and plenty of new problems I needed to get through.
No. I’ll need to go further back still before I can talk about any of those people or even my cat. It probably all started with my parents, but that is much too far back to explain everything along the way, as I think I’m running out of time. I’ll just need to start from somewhere in the middle and hope that you’ll be able to understand everything that is about to happen.
Chapter One
Very Superstitious
I remember the day when I saw my new friends for the first time. I had no idea how important they would be to me until quite some time after that first encounter. Nothing will ever prepare you for something as strange as being able to see people who are nowhere near you in real life.
I remember that it was a sunny day in the beginning of summer. The weather was so sweet outside. There were luscious green leaves and grass outside and beautiful colorful flowers. Everything was alive even after the rains of spring had ended. The sky was clear save for a few cotton ball puffs floating by.
“I’m very glad that we decided to do this today.”
I had been invited to go on a picnic by my sister and her boyfriend. It was bad enough that I had come out of a very messy relationship just a year prior to this picnic [I am putting that very lightly], but now I had to witness my sister deeply in love with a wonderful guy. I needed to be a part of their lives, guilt and sin free, but I didn’t think I needed to worry about a guy like Malcolm.
It was true what they said about male fairies—they were chivalrous, handsome, and kind. This guy, in particular, was probably the most perfect person, not only for my sister Isabelle but in the known universe. His hair was golden and fell around his face and ears. It was thick and straight and would flutter with any movement of the wind. He had eyes the color of a raincloud. They were like lit charcoal. I had never seen eyes such a dark grey before. They fascinated me. I could see why Isabelle liked him.
“It really is a lovely day, right Samantha?” My sister turned to me with a warm smile. She looked happy, and she deserved to be. Isabelle was as warm as the weather that day. She was always chipper, sweet, and soft spoken.
“The loveliest,” I said. I tried to be as polite as I could be, but even as I said the words, I knew they didn’t sound authentic. I didn’t want to put anybody off. I knew that Isabelle was just trying to make sure I wasn’t at my home moping about the place. There were only so many days I could spend at home with my black cat, Tangerine, before even she would get tired of me and want to run away from home.
It was strange that my sister and I were so different. I was more like our father, and she was certainly more like our mother. Our father is a hotheaded human full of ideas and feelings, and he isn’t always able to get a handle on his emotions. Our mother, on the other hand, is the sweetest and kindest fairy woman—kinder than what one may expect of a fairy. Mother is cotton candy in the form of a living soul. It’s a wonder she married my father. It’s a wonder too how they’re still so in love with one another. You should see the way my father looks at my mother. It’s like he sees her for the first time every time. And here I am, currently being an extra leg for a date Isabelle insisted I go on.
“Are you sure it’s alright for me to be here?” I asked. I pulled Isabelle back and waited for her boyfriend to walk a few paces ahead of us. He was perfectly content taking a look at each tree and smiling up at the branches.
“Of course it is. Malcolm and I are happy to have you with us,” Isabelle said. She smiled and her grey-green eyes squinted with joy. That was probably the only thing that was similar about us. Isabelle was tall and slim with legs for days. Her skin was a soft and creamy peach color, and she had fiery red hair that was thick and flowed down her shoulders. She normally kept the top half of it in a bun and allowed the rest of it to flow free. Her lips were thin but always rosy and ready for an inviting smile. Looking at her was like looking at a dream.
“I want to thank you for inviting me, Isabelle. I know that I haven’t really been myself lately,” I said.
“No darling, that’s fine. I know you’ve been going through some things. I’m happy that you were feeling well enough to join us. I love when you spend time with me,” she said. She was absolutely perfect.
“I know. It’s really good to see you, Izzy.”
She locked arms with me and rubbed my shoulder.
“What do you think about under this willow?” Malcolm asked us when we were close enough behind him. It was the gloomiest tree in the park, but it also provided the most shade. The branches curved downward like a hand waiting to cage us in. The leaves and tendrils swayed solemnly with even the slightest bit of breeze.
He looked at me when he asked. He had been trying to ensure that I was all right with everything since the start of our outing. He was the one who called and invited me out because he wanted to get to know the people who were loved by the woman he loved. It was all so sweet, and it was impossible to tell someone like him no. He was just too accommodating.
“It’s nice. I like that it’s close enough to the pond,” I said. I was sure to make my voice sound more chipper. I knew Isabelle appreciated the effort because she smiled widely at me. It would have been great to have a smile like hers.
I did have a nice smile, but it was nowhere near as inviting as Isabelle’s. My lips were thin but pale to the point that they almost were the same color as my skin. My face was round and pleasant with high soft cheekbones that reddened at any sign of kindness, embarrassment, or anything that induced anxiety. I was almost the spitting image of our mother. My skin was a bit more blanched than Isabelle’s, while my hair was short and thick and curly. It was black, which was unusual, because there was no one in our family who had black hair. I remembered when I looked back into our family tree and found that on both sides of my family, there wasn’t anyone with curly raven hair.
“Perfect,” Malcolm said as he tossed our picnic blanket in the air. It came down slowly and landed as a large blue square at the base of the willow tree. Isabelle set down our picnic basket and sat down in the center of the blanket. She crossed her long legs and started to pick out a sandwich for herself to eat.
I stood by the blanket looking and feeling rather awkward. I wanted to see where Malcolm sat before inevitably deciding that my place was at the corner of the mat that had the best view of the lake. I never knew what to do around couples when they laughed, held hands, or kissed. It felt strange to watch them, but there was nothing else my eyes could focus on. Looking around made me feel like a lunatic, and then the anxiety would bubble to the surface anyway.
“Go ahead and have a seat, Sam. I think I might go and climb that tree over there,” he said. He pointed two trees away from us to the thickest trunk I had ever seen on a tree. There were so many grooves and holes before it blossomed outward into a million branches. The branches were so thick and long that they could have held about half of an army without any sort of strain.
“Please be careful,” Isabelle said. She had half of her sandwich stuffed in her mouth, so now she looked like she had chipmunk cheeks.
“I’ll be fine. I have excellent balance. You two have fun.” He was well on his way to the tree before there was any way for Isabelle to protest.
I sauntered over to the blanket but didn’t sit. I didn’t know what was preventing me. Isabelle looked up at me and blinked and chewed. As slowl
y as was possible, I crumpled onto my knees and then onto my stomach. The blanket felt like I was sleeping on a cloud. It was thick enough that my body could have made an imprint in it. I moaned happily as I rolled around for a minute. That made Isabelle giggle, and she had to hold her hand over her mouth in order to keep her food from falling out.
“You really like Malcom’s blanket, huh?”
“It’s the most comfortable thing I’ve ever been on,” I grumbled. My face was still buried in the blanket. “Where did he get it?”
“Oh, I think it was something a family member of his made for him. I’m sure if I asked him, I’d be able to get you one. I know you’d like one in black.” Isabelle said.
“You know me so well.” I laughed. I rolled over onto my side and asked Isabelle to pass me a sandwich. It really was so nice that we were able to do things like this again. We had been so close to each other as children. People often assumed we were twins with how inseparable we were, but I was actually three years younger. Isabelle was always so protective of me, but even in those times she would kill people with kindness. There was always a smart and sweet solution for handling bullies—at least that was something she used to say. It worked on her, because she was charming and everyone knew her as the sweetest girl in school.
We were always together up until she left elementary school and went into middle school. I no longer had Isabelle to protect me, and that meant I had to get some kind of backbone. And boy did I. I was a lot bolder on my own than I thought I would be without Isabelle. She never lost her sweetness, but over time I became more and more sour. She was never struck with a rebellious phase or teen angst, so I ended up having enough for the two of us. I was wild, mean, and selfish. But I’ll get back to that later.
At that moment, I was feeling like my old self again. I wanted to hold her hand and braid her hair. How I wished I could go back in time and listen to all the advice she had ever given me. I was belligerent and still weak, while she was soft but somehow also the strongest person I knew.
“I really hope Malcolm doesn’t fall out of that tree. I know he’s quite athletic, but everyone has an off day. Accidents happen,” Isabelle said. She was craning her neck this way and that in her attempts to see where Malcolm was from where she was sitting. I sat up on the blanket and followed her gaze. I couldn’t see him either.
“I’m sure he’s fine. I can check if you’d like me to,” I offered.
“Would you?” she asked. Her shoulders slouched as her smile widened. She was relieved.
“No problem,” I groaned and rose from the blanket. I never wanted to leave it. I headed in the direction of the tree Malcolm was climbing. I took my time. I knew he wasn’t hurt or anything, so there was no rush to get to him. It was bravery that made me make the offer to my sister, but now I was already beginning to get shy. I had no idea what to talk to him about once I got to him. It made sense to let him do all the talking, but he was too swell of a guy for that. He would want to know more about me, and I wouldn’t really feel inclined to say anything unless he asked.
Suddenly, everything felt different. I had to take a step back in order to steady myself and gain some equilibrium, but my knee buckled underneath me. It was limp for a second, and I almost tripped. I caught my balance and paused to clutch my heart, and then I looked up. My eyes grew so wide that I almost felt my pupils dilate. I gulped in a long hollow breath.
There was a deafening silence around me, and I was beginning to experience vertigo. The world wasn’t spinning; it was just different. I wasn’t feeling dizzy, but I knew I needed to sit or lie down. What was happening to me? I couldn’t have been hungry or dehydrated. I didn’t think I was becoming sick, because illnesses didn’t hit you the way this strange vertigo hit me.
I reached out one hand, expecting to grab something in order to keep myself from toppling over. That was when I saw a person—no, two people. Wait, no… I could see several people before me. They were there, but they also weren’t there. I could see them clearly now even though they weren’t there just a moment before. Malcolm, Isabelle, and I were on the side of the lake that didn’t have many visitors. We all appreciated the quiet aspects of the wondrous outdoors. But the people who were in front of me couldn’t even see I was there. They were all walking around the trees, some laughing, and the others trodding along silently.
I could barely move without feeling like I was about to fall over. I watched the other people in silence. I didn’t feel like it was possible to even try to speak. My mouth opened and closed, but I didn’t make much effort to speak.
I saw that one of the people was a witch. I could tell by the natural tattoos that snaked up and down her body, visible even with the long dress she wore that went down to her ankles. It was impossible not to notice a witch. They all had special markings and symbols they were born with. They looked like tribal tattoos drawn all around their bodies. Some were beautiful and had different colors, and others were almost menacing and terrifying to look at. This girl’s markings were black on her dark brown skin. She was cackling at something her companion said. He was a witch like her—though many of the men preferred to be called warlocks—with black markings on the back of his neck. His skin was a greyish-blue color, and he wore clothes that made him look like a member of a grunge band. Part of his tribal markings extended onto one side of his face. The two of them were holding hands.
There was another girl with them wearing a huge hat that almost swallowed her up. She was much shorter than they were. I could tell by her thick, short legs that she was a pixie even before I saw the very faint glimmer of her wings tucked behind her. Pixie wings were never big, and they were all almost completely clear. This pixie’s wings were neatly pressed against the back of the dress she was wearing.
It was so unusual to see a pixie mingling with witches, but she looked like one not to be trifled with. She was walking ahead of them with a stern look on her face, and she wasn’t speaking to anyone. Behind the laughing witches was another fairy girl, like me, only she was pink with bright purple hair cut very short. Her arms were folded over her chest, and she didn’t look too pleased either. Not all fairies had wings, but she was the kind that did.
My mother had wings, and since my sister and I were half human, there was a small chance we would have been born with wings as well. Neither of us had them though. The pink fairy turned around for a moment to take a look at their final companion. She looked a bit sad, but she shook her head and then turned back around to follow her other friends. I turned to where she had just been looking to take a look at the last person in their party.
That was when I actively stopped fighting my spinning head and gravity. I fell onto the grass right on my bum and stared up. I was transfixed to the point that I was ignoring the pain that was now shooting up my tailbone and spine.
The person coming up behind the others was a human man with a striking and interesting face. His hair was as black as mine, and it was pulled back into a ponytail. His eyes were dark brown and they slanted along the outer corners. He was the tallest of his group of friends by quite a bit, even though the warlock wasn’t that far behind in height. I only assumed they were friends because they were all going in the direction of the tree Isabelle was now sitting under.
From what I could see, one of the human boy’s arms was covered in actual painted tattoos of many colors and patterns. The sleeve of the shirt he was wearing stopped about a third of the way up his arm, not quite to his elbow, but I could tell the tattoos traveled further upward. He looked very serious but not unfriendly like the pixie girl with the large hat did. Although the world seemed to be moving, I could see them vividly.
There was something not fully opaque about them. I had an idea before, but now I was certain they were not there. I was trying to make sense of what was happening. There needed to be a logical explanation for my mind creating four entire people on a random day in the park. Who were they, and what were they doing here? There wasn’t any such thing as ghos
ts, but there was nothing I could think of that came closer to an answer.
I was still looking at them as they passed, and then my heart stopped. The human boy looked at me. He wasn’t seeing through me, nor did his eyes just pass over me. He looked directly into my eyes with a confused expression on his face. It didn’t last for more than a few seconds before he looked back in the direction he was going, shook his head like he was trying to shake away what he had just seen, and continued to walk.
I followed them with my eyes until the strange spinning sensation became unbearable. I shut my eyes tight and counted to three before blinking them open again. There was no one around me. Everything was back to normal. There was no vertigo or potential dizzy spell. I was no longer feeling strange, and I couldn’t see any people or strange ghost-like creatures around me.
In hindsight, that was probably when I should have told my sister about what I had seen that afternoon, but I didn’t believe it had actually happened. I told myself it was a hallucination, maybe because of the heat. I was always trying to find a normal reason for why things occurred. I was only half mythical creature, and I was in no way superstitious.
‘If this happens again, I should tell my sister,’ I thought to myself. I never wanted to worry her, but keeping anything from her now that we were back to being friends didn’t feel right. I never liked having to go through anything alone. She was my big sister, and I wanted to be able to have her guidance in everything. There was a chance she knew why it was that this had happened and what it was at all about. Isabelle had the answers for everything.
The most significant thing about it was that I really, really hoped something like what I had just seen and felt never happened again.
*****
I didn’t have any of those strange visions or waking dreams for a while. I had forgotten that I even had the hallucinations. I returned to my regular routine—a job that took up most of my time, still moping about a break up that had happened almost a year ago, and trying to find ways to fit into the life of my sister and her boyfriend.
