I never thought I would gather the courage to do that. I never thought I had the words to announce that I was done and ready to leave. Perhaps I was a few short moments from being fired had I settled and accepted what many thought was my fate.
The look that stained Mildred’s face amused mine. Disbelief. He thought I could never do it. Stand up to him and do what I should have done long ago. A weight lifted from my back. A weight that I'd carried but was not mine to bear.
Walking down Mountain street feels different this time. It’s my last time walking in it, wearing this wretched unifrom. I never liked it. From my first day. The red and green just felt like too much of a contrast. Mostly because it was. The good members in Hallis Green were good. But the not so good were just that too.
As I make my way past the market stalls, the heavens start to trickle. The trickling turns to rain. The rain calls out with sudden booms. I usually find the nearest form of shelter when this happens, but today I twirl in the rain, sharing my enthusiasm for her.
I could do this for a while longer, but cinammon and vanilla pastries invade my nostrils, stimulating a rumble in my stomach. Now would be a great time to visit my favourite pastry shop on my last day at Hallis.
As I make my way to the door’s entrance, I enter…Without touching the door… Through the door. I whip my head back to ensure that there was no door and the entrance was in fact open. But there’s glass…And a door handle…And some new visitors grab it to open it…
It is now that I realise that my hand is not my hand. It’s…See through….
They say you cannot arrive at a fairy party without an invite. It's not an ordinary invite is as much as I've heard, but only those who have one know the insides to this desperately renowned mystery.
I had wished to know too...All until this day, where I remain, tied just inches from the scorching blaze that the fairies huddle around. Beads of sweat trickle down my temples and fall among the ferocious flames. I pray that I don't follow them, but if I don't think fast, my fate has already been decided. The heat seems to erode any hope of creativity that I can muster to bring me freedom.
"Such a tasty human this one!" "Haha, it's nearly time fellas," My heart skips its turn as I shift from side to side as a crowd begins to enter my blurred vision. I open my mouth to scream, just to remember it has been tamed by duct tape. Nothing I say can be heard.
"Here we are fairies and fentalmen. At our annual fairly forest party!" A familiar voice says. A voice that engages the fairies but sounds like a safe haven to me... I believe it to be...Could it be... Olsen Mayor?
I turn my head to follow the voice in disbelief. He wears glasses, a crown of clay leaves, and the pointy nose of Olsen! He glances at me and shares a rapid wink...No fairy could notice that. He must be here to save me. I let out a sigh of relief. At least that's one burden lifted. How he will help me I don't know. Olsen is no fairy like the dozens cheering around, glazed in white fairy dust and evil sorcery. But he is one thing for sure. A genius.
Mona was different from the rest of the other girls. Her coily hair defied gravity, reaching for the tumultuous sky and her birthmark spanned from her right temple across to her left cheek. It was like the shape of two islands that meet at the bridge of her nose then dwell in their separate places. Once upon a time, Mona hated these things. She does not love them now, but she is learning to accept them.
“You’re so beautiful, sweet Mona,” Reggie would say. But how can you feel that way when none of the other girls look like you? None of the other girls have coily hair, dark skin or a birthmark 3 shades later than your skin tone, Mona would think.
The bells chime as the morning in Roading School begins. Time to start a new day with the same facial features that Mona can’t seem to disguise with makeup, humour or acting invisible…
I stumbled taken aback by his accusation. Could this be? Could she have kidnapped the wrong man in the end? The description stated that the culprit had sandy blonde hair, hazel sharp eyes and a height of 6 foot. All descriptions that match the man wriggling in front of us in the sackcloth. There was no other that fit the description from the cohort. If they did, I would have taken them both. Maybe then not all 5 of them would have been killed.
"Skylar! It's not him, I'm getting mad!" Rob continues, pacing across the desert sands with his pointy stained boots. "I;m sorry Rob, he's the only one that fit your description. Maybe you should have made it clearer next time or given me a name." I shout over the roaring wind. Rob stops mid pacing and throws me a look. A look I know all too well. He's not impressed, and he could come over and try to strangle me. But I'll put up a good fight this time. I'm not the little naive 16-year-old girl he saw at the petrol station, lost and confused. I know who I am now and what I want. He can't throw me around anymore.
