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The Truth Pixie Goes to School

Page 1

by Matt Haig




  Also by Matt Haig

  Shadow Forest

  The Runaway Troll

  To Be A Cat

  Echo Boy

  A Boy Called Christmas

  The Girl Who Saved Christmas

  Father Christmas and Me

  The Truth Pixie

  Evie and the Animals

  First published in Great Britain, the USA and Canada in 2019

  by Canongate Books Ltd,

  14 High Street, Edinburgh EH1 1TE

  Distributed in the USA by Publishers Group West

  and in Canada by Publishers Group Canada

  canongate.co.uk

  This digital edition first published in 2019 by Canongate Books

  Copyright © Matt Haig, 2019

  Illustrations copyright © Chris Mould, 2019

  The moral rights of the author and the illustrator have been asserted

  British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

  A catalogue record for this book is available on

  request from the British Library

  ISBN 978 1 78689 826 5

  eISBN 978 1 78689 827 2

  To Pearl and Lucas

  Contents

  Also by Matt Haig

  The Truth Pixie: Goes to School

  There once was a girl

  Who lived far away,

  And who tried to be kind,

  Whatever the day.

  This girl was called Aada.

  She lived with her dad.

  She was sometimes happy,

  But now she was sad.

  She’d had a bad year,

  She’d had to move town,

  And start a new school,

  And wear a new frown.

  Her gran had died,

  Her dad lost his job.

  Aada spent the whole year

  Trying not to sob.

  But this isn’t a sad story –

  Not really, no –

  The pixie lived

  In Aada’s house,

  And in her hair

  Was Maarta the mouse.

  This pixie slept

  Under Aada’s bed,

  And Aada trusted

  Whatever she said.

  You see . . .

  And Aada was pleased

  That she had such a friend.

  She hoped that these days

  Would never end.

  When the Truth Pixie and Aada

  Went into town,

  They’d laugh when they saw

  Everyone frown.

  ‘Hello,’ said Aada.

  ‘We’d like a loaf of bread.’

  ‘No pixies allowed!’

  The shopkeeper said.

  ‘Well!’ said the pixie.

  ‘That’s just rude!

  Especially when you sell

  Such disgusting food!’

  Back at home

  With Aada and her dad,

  She watched the news

  But it drove her mad.

  ‘Why do humans chop down trees

  When forests are so fantastic?

  And why do you clog your oceans

  With all that horrible plastic?’

  Aada’s dad sighed.

  ‘It’s not that simple.’

  Aada agreed with the pixie

  As she picked at a pimple.

  Aada loved the pixie.

  They had great times together,

  Such as snowball fights

  In wintry weather.

  Aada told her stories,

  Made up in her head,

  And the pixie listened closely

  To everything she said.

  Aada played piano,

  The pixie sang along,

  And they both laughed happily

  Whenever it went wrong.

  When Aada was happy,

  The pixie was there.

  (The best kind of happy

  Is the kind you can share.)

  And when times were tough,

  And when Aada felt bad,

  The pixie was there

  To make her less sad.

  She told Aada the truth,

  She told her what was real,

  She told her it’s okay

  To feel what she feels.

  Aada started a new school,

  And the pixie came too.

  But this school was a place

  Where it was hard to be true.

  ‘Infinity,’ said the maths teacher,

  ‘Is the largest number ever!’

  ‘Nope,’ said the pixie.

  ‘Oh,’ Teacher sighed. ‘So you think you are clever?’

  ‘Not really,’ said the pixie.

  ‘But there’s a rabbit called Bangly-Bon,

  Who says there’s a number that’s

  In a history lesson,

  The pixie was amused,

  Because history was a subject

  That left her confused.

  ‘It seems strange,’

  She told the very strict teacher,

  ‘That your history

  Is full of only one creature.’

  ‘There are no dogs,

  Pixies or even elves.

  It seems like humans

  Are obsessed with themselves!’

  Aada was embarrassed,

  And turned bright red,

  Every time the pixie

  Said what she said.

  And outside, later on,

  When the lesson was sports,

  The pixie was laughed at,

  In her silly yellow shorts.

  She couldn’t catch a ball

  And she couldn’t run fast,

  And in every single race

  She always came last.

  The children thought

  The pixie was strange.

  They laughed at her difference

  And they didn’t like change.

  The Truth Pixie didn’t mind,

  She really didn’t care.

  (And nor did the mouse

  Who lived in her hair.)

  The trouble was

  That Aada did care,

  Because the children at school

  Would always be there.

  There was one girl

  Whose name was Leena.

  She had cold eyes

  And couldn’t be meaner.

  She laughed at Aada

  And her pixie friend,

  So Aada tried to be normal,

  But couldn’t pretend.

  ‘You aren’t normal’ –

  That’s what Leena told her.

  Aada closed her eyes,

  And wished she was older.

  Aada was quiet,

  Aada couldn’t speak.

  Aada’s legs

  Felt really weak.

  The pixie was there,

  And she got really cross.

  She had to show this girl

  Who was actually the boss.

  ‘You ask me why

  I smell of poo.

  It’s ’cos the mouse in my hair

  Has got no loo.

  And listen, why must you always

  Pick on Aada?

  Why must you try

  To make her life harder?

  Pixies aren’t evil,

  Pixies aren’t bad.

  I hate your lies,

  ’Cos they make me sad.’

  Leena leaned in,

  ‘Well, you see,

  You can’t fix me,

  Because I’m an actual

  . . . Truth Pixie.

  I tell the truth

  In what I say.

  I tell it at night

  And I tell it all day.

  And the truth about you, />
  I can explain fully:

  You’re being a nasty,

  Insecure bully.

  You pick on others

  To make you feel better,

  Which is like trying to dry

  By getting even wetter.

  I’ll give you some advice,

  I hope you don’t mind.

  Leena stared at the pixie

  And stamped her feet.

  ‘You are such a freak!

  And you think you’re sweet.

  You’re not a human,

  You shouldn’t be here,

  With your silly voice

  And your pointy ears.

  I think it’s funny that Aada

  Has no friends,

  Except a pixie

  Whose truth never ends.’

  She grabbed the pixie,

  Dangled her above the ground,

  As Maarta the mouse

  Squeaked a frightened sound.

  ‘Please,’ said Aada,

  ‘Leave her alone.’

  But into the air

  The pixie was thrown.

  She flew down the corridor

  Where Aada couldn’t reach her

  And landed in the arms

  Of their least favourite teacher.

  ‘Pixie!’ said the teacher.

  ‘What are you doing?

  ‘Ummm, I was flung in the air

  By Leena Gruing.’

  And from that day on,

  Things got even worse.

  The Truth Pixie felt less like a friend

  And more like a curse.

  One day, Aada,

  Wishing no one could see her,

  Saw there in her path

  That bully Leena.

  ‘Please,’ Aada said,

  ‘I’ve got to go to class.’

  But Leena stood in the way

  And wouldn’t let her past.

  Aada pushed her and ran

  And didn’t look back.

  It felt like the whole school

  Was on the attack.

  People laughed in class,

  Ignored her at break.

  There wasn’t a single

  Friend it seemed she could make.

  The Truth Pixie sighed

  When she saw this sad stuff,

  And wished she could tell Aada

  She was more than enough.

  ‘Oh, Aada, I’m sorry

  About these people at school.

  I had no idea

  Humans could be so cruel.’

  ‘But it’s the truth,’ said Aada.

  ‘I really am a bit strange.

  I wish I was normal,

  I wish I could change.

  I wish I could speak

  Like the others do.

  I wish I could smile

  And not look so blue.

  I wish I didn’t care about people

  Who make me a joke.

  I wish we had money

  And weren’t so broke.

  I wish I had their faces

  With their natural smiles.

  And I wish I didn’t have thoughts

  Like snapping crocodiles.

  I wish Mum was still here,

  And my gran too.

  But I know, at least,

  That I still have you.’

  ‘Oh, thank you,’ said the pixie.

  ‘That’s good to hear.

  But I don’t like to see

  Your mind full of fear.

  You’re not normal,

  That much is true.

  But why be normal,

  When you could also be you?

  If everyone was normal,

  All of the time,

  Life would be a poem

  With only one rhyme.

  The best people I’ve met

  Were always rather weird,

  Like that man Father Christmas,

  With his funny clothes and beard.

  And the Easter Bunny,

  With long ears and silly short legs,

  Who gives the world chocolate

  That is turned into EGGS!!!’

  Aada smiled,

  But still looked sad.

  The Truth Pixie felt

  Really quite bad.

  Late at night,

  There was no denying,

  The sound from the bed

  Was the sound of crying.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said the pixie.

  ‘This is all my fault,’

  As Aada shed a tear

  That tasted of salt.

  At school the next day,

  The pixie kept out of sight,

  So Aada could make friends

  And try to put things right.

  But it wasn’t that easy,

  Not at first.

  In fact, for a while,

  Aada’s day got worse.

  They laughed at her drawings

  Of trolls and elves,

  Though some felt bad

  And ashamed of themselves.

  One girl approached, said,

  ‘I’m sorry you feel sad.

  I’d be your friend,

  But it’s just . . . my dad.

  He says that pixies

  Are full of evil powers.

  They make the sky dark,

  And like to kill flowers.’

  The girl walked away,

  And Aada felt lonely.

  All she wanted was a human friend,

  And she thought, ‘If only . . .’

  She thought having human friends

  Would be like being in a bubble

  That could keep her away

  From playground trouble.

  Maybe the pixie was right,

  With the words she had spoken late last night.

  Perhaps it was all the pixie’s fault?

  With that thought, she stood up with a jolt.

  Aada said to the girl

  Something REALLY bad.

  She said, ‘I’m not friends with the pixie,

  That would be mad!’

  And the girl stopped,

  And turned to say,

  ‘Well, in that case,

  Let’s go and play.’

  And Aada went off

  With her human friend,

  And felt something new start

  And something else end.

  Nearby, the Truth Pixie

  Heard every word.

  And wished she could fly away

  Like a lonely bird.

  ‘Aada is better off without me,’

  The pixie told her mouse.

  ‘We should go back home

  To our little yellow house.’

  So the Truth Pixie left Aada

  On April the fourth,

  Wrote her a letter

  And then travelled north.

  It took two hundred days,

  And was such a hard trek.

  When she got to her old home

  She felt quite a wreck.

  On her first week back,

  She went to see her brother Cyril.

  He was super short,

  About the height of a squirrel.

  They hadn’t spoken for a while,

  And Truth Pixie wanted to make amends.

  She wanted to know why Cyril

  Had three thousand friends.

  So she went to his house,

  Deep in the trees.

  He was having a party

  And gave Maarta some cheese.

  ‘Ah,’ said Cyril. ‘Sister! Sister!

  Sister, my dear!

  It’s SO good to see you

  And to have you here!’

  ‘Is it?’ she asked.

  ‘Is that really the case?

  I feel like these days

  I should be hiding my face.’

  ‘Of course, Anoushka.

  Of course I want to see you.

  In fact, you’re so brilliant

  I always wanted to BE you.’


  ‘Anoushka?’ said the Truth Pixie.

  She’d forgotten her own name.

  She’d always been ‘Truth Pixie’,

  And great-aunt Julia was to blame.

  But then, at that moment,

  Came a whisper in her ear.

  It was from an old elf

  By the name of Mother Breer.

  ‘Hello, Truth Pixie,’

  Said the wise little elf.

  ‘Please be careful,

  And watch yourself.’

  ‘Why?’ asked the pixie.

  ‘What is the matter?’

  ‘It’s Cyril,’ said the elf.

  ‘Don’t believe his chatter.

  Yes, everyone likes him,

  But do you know why?

  It’s because everything he says

  Is a total lie.

  Since the last time you saw him,

  He’s become quite peculiar,

  And the reason for that

  is your great-aunt Julia.

  She’s been fooling around,

  She’s been rather tricksy,

  And now your brother

  Is a new kind of pixie!

  Like us, now he speaks

  Always in rhyme,

  But unlike us, he

  LIES ALL THE TIME!’

  ‘A Lie Pixie? A Lie Pixie?’

  She began to understand,

  As her brother came

  And took her hand.

  ‘Everyone is amazing!

  Everyone is great!’

  ‘Hmmm,’ said his sister.

  ‘If you lie, they’ll be your mate.’

  So she followed him around

  As he introduced her to his guests.

  More elves than pixies,

  Because, he lied, ‘Elves are the best!’

  ‘Here’s Father Topo,

  An elf like no other!

  I sometimes wish

  He was my brother!’

  They went outside,

  And Cyril saw a troll.

  ‘So good to see you!’

  And his sister said, ‘LOL!’

  Said the troll:

  ‘I never ’ave been to a party!’

  Said the pixie:

  ‘Perhaps because you smell so farty!’

 

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