A sprinkle of dust glimmered in the morning sunlight, settling softly on the ancient, leather-bound book before me. The five-letter word, “magic,” had brought me luck once again.

I had discovered the book hidden in the attic of my grandmother’s house, nestled between forgotten relics and memories of a bygone era. Its cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age, but it held a promise that I couldn’t ignore. The word “magic” inscribed on the first page was enough to stir my curiosity and hope.

As I opened the book, a sense of wonder washed over me. Tales of spells, enchanted objects, and mystical creatures unfolded before my eyes. It was as if the universe had conspired to guide me to this moment, to remind me that magic was not just a word, but a doorway to endless possibilities.

If you could restart your entire life, would you do it?

For me, it wasn’t even a question.

For that reason, when I saw this old book hidden amongst my late grandfather’s boxes, there was no shot in hell I wasn’t about to give it a read. It carried it’s own mesmerising air, like the contents of this book were of some mystical origin.

I sat down on the dusty, weathered sofa of his old parlour. In all fairness, when I was still a kid, he would always talk about Nan and her ‘superstitious little trinkets’, but I’ve never seen one of them till now.

The book looked important - too important to be left in a box in an attic. I wonder why Nan hasn’t done anything with it; maybe grandad was the superstitious one all along?

As I gently dusted its hard leatherback casing, I felt a sharp sensation on the tip of my finger. The book suddenly came alive, as if reacting to my person, and the dull umbre that was the leather reinvigorated into a bright, deep crimson.

My finger felt unnaturally warm, and I looked at it, only to realise I’m bleeding. I didn’t feel panic, however, it was more of a gentle realisation, the way you realise you’re going to be late for work, or that you’re about to miss your train.

I opened the book, and I just sat down and read. I read about the lion eating the sun, about salt, sulphur and mercury, about the gold and the silver, I even read about the “truth” of the world; I read and read till I realised too late that it was almost evening.

I looked at my phone - 21 missed calls from “Mum”, 3 missed calls from “Dad”, and even one from my sister, which honestly shocked me the most. I accepted I’d be finished when I got home from my Nan’s, and continued to read, encapsulated in the contents of this book.

It was addictive to say the least. I didn’t even feel like I understood what I read, yet I couldn’t find myself questioning any of it. I just read and digested till reached the final page, titled “To Live Twice”, a very interesting title for the end chapter of a book, I thought.

What I read next made everything I’ve lived for till then, everything I’ve endured to get to where I was, all the disappointments, the losses, the highs, the lows - all of it felt naught.

It was like I knew exactly what I had to do.

“Why would you come home so late? Your Nan has been worried sick,” my mother sighed as I walked through the door, book clutched tightly in one hand.

I waved her off and took off my shoes, “Sorry about that, I just needed some time to absorb this shock I guess. You know, grieving and all.”

“You hardly knew him,” she began, cutting the cucumbers and throwing them into the salad, “What do you have to grieve about?”

I looked at her, at a loss of words, “You know, you’re a really blunt person, Mum.”

“I get that a lot. Dinner in 20, don’t be late for that one as well.”

“Sure, sure. Oh and, by the way, you wouldn’t happen to know where I could buy sulphur, no?”

She looked at me like I was speaking in Latin, then just shrugged her shoulders and continued making the salad. Well, that was helpful.

I sat down at my desk, pulled out my laptop and did some research. According to the book, the most important things I needed for this to work were 50 grams of salt, which was easy enough to obtain, 66.60 grams of sulphur and 140 millilitres of liquid mercury. Where I’d find those last two I had no idea, and the book also mentioned that the purity is also something that will heavily influence the effectiveness of this potion.

A couple of unfruitful minutes later, I had a moment of common sense just hit me like a truck; mercury is something we experiment with at school, so I’d just need to bottle some up and take it home.

2 down, one more to go.

Finding where I could get some sulphur was nowhere near as simple as I imagined. All the sites I found were either shady or the sulphur looked less like sulphur and more like frozen piss, so it took me a while till I stumbled upon someone selling 99.9% pure sulphur on eBay.

Stroke of luck. Finally.

It’s been a few days, the sulphur should be arriving this evening. I can feel the cold sweat trickle from my brow - am I nervous? Why should I be? There’s no other options for me, regardless; this either works or it doesn’t.

Finally, the ringing of our doorbell breaks that exhausting silence. I rush down and collect the parcel, then run back up to my room before my mum could even call my name.

Alright, we are all set.

Mix water that has been sanctified by an ordained priest with the salt, then the mercury, and then 20ml of fresh dew water. Crush the sulphur into a fine powder together with 50 caterpillar heads, 20 pairs of fly wings, 2 scarab beetles and a drop of your blood to finish it off. Mix the 2 mixtures together in a quartz or marble bowl, and leave in the sun for 20 minutes.

If successful, the mixture should smoothen over into a rich, green colour, with no lumps or bits or whatnot. I stared at that bowl for what felt like years, hoping and wondering wether I really had lost it after grandad died.

Please… just work… __ __ The 20th minute came upon me, yet nothing happened. I felt a tear burn its way across my face.

What was I missing?

I looked through the book again, reading it carefully this time rather than in that state of trance I always fall into while reading it.

Of course it didn’t work - I missed something!

Something that… didn’t make sense?

“What on earth is pixie dust?”

I felt at a loss. Was this whole thing just a big joke? This isn’t a fantasy world where pixie dust existed, right? Whatever, I was too deep into this now to turn back empty handed; I needed to find this so called pixie dust.

I sat down at my desk and thought of what I could do now. How would I go about finding something that isn’t real? Maybe there’s a real life counterpart to a pixie I can use, the way crocodiles are referred to as modern dinosaurs and whatnot.

I searched on that laptop for what felt like the most pointless 50 minutes of my life. I couldn’t find a single lead; everything just led back to fantasy core and ore nonsense that couldn’t be based in any facts. I needed something — something I could look at be certain that what I’m doing isn’t an unironic waste of time.

That’s when I saw it — apparently, pixies were known to have a spiritual connection with horses, riding them and frolicking with their manes, so if I was going to find pixie dust anywhere in the world, it would be in their manes for sure.

Luckily for me, I’ve been doing horse riding since I was like 5 and only did take a break because of an injury; long story short, if pixies are truly real, the best place I could find them in this city would be at the stables my aunt owns.

A careful drive later, I arrived at the stables, greeted my aunt and made a beeline for the horses. I got a pair of scissors, snipped at their manes and grinded the horse hairs into a fine powder. Out of an airtight container, I pulled out the concoction I had earlier. I’m assuming that since I’ve done the 20 minute waiting, all I’d need to do was add the powder and recite the the 5 letter word the book gave me.

I poured it all in, and almost immediately I saw a change in the concoction.

It actually worked, for the love of heaven, it actually worked.

“Alright… **_Vivus.”

_**A small pop escaped the bowl as the concoction fully transformed into a rich green. Without hesitation, I drank that whole thing down and prayed for a miracle.

I closed my eyes, imagining all the things I’d do differently if this potion actually worked. The mistakes I’d amend, the life I’d live, the sorry’s I’d give and the—

Suddenly, my vision went blurry. My mouth foamed like a hot bubble bath, and I clutched my stomach in searing agony. My mind was doing cartwheels in my throat, my heart was beating in my feet and my ears were hearing through my skin.

Was I dying?

I opened my eyes, though I could only see with the clarity of a camera built in the early 19th century. I saw a pair of feet, though they did not touch the ground. However, the shoes I saw we’re unmistakably recognisable.

“Good to see you again, my boy. Now, stand; your life will never be the same again.”**_

_**

There was a sparkle That shimmered so brightly It was the only light Ive received in this cave The darkness made me question everything about myself So I’ll cling to that sparkle With all my might I didn’t want to let it go Its comforting I choked my pride In hopes that it would lead me somewhere safer So as I walked down that dark path The sparkle of light turned into something brighter That revealed to me a figure Long beautiful hair Her smile was like sunshine, Beautiful rays. Her name was hope. She looked at me like she knew I was coming And led the way like she knew where she was going She did.. She fostered hope And a little bit of hope Can change your whole life At least it did mine…

A notebook sat blank in front of me, almost pleading to be filled with secrets. Only I had no secrets to tell, only a cluttered mind and one that was filled with a bunch of random bits of knowledge and events. The navy blue ink made contact with the white spaces and words began to occupy the emptiness. Sometimes writing was better than talking to anyone. I don’t have to worry about what others think of me this way, it’s just me, then pen and the paper. No questions. No accusations. Just my thoughts.

‘A sprinkle of pixie dust, a five letter word, and a little bit of hope can change your whole life. At least it did mine and it began when I met him. That pixie dust was the spark he ignited in me, one that I thought had died many years ago. It was the way he spoke and composed himself. His voice always soothed my nerves and somehow made me feel safe, which not many had been able to do. Anytime he looked at me with his emerald green hues, my whole world stopped for just a moment and it would be like only the two of us existed. That five letter word was Zayne. He found me when I was at my lowest and loved me regardless of what was going on. He was the hope that I needed to keep living. Zayne saved my life and without him I don’t think I would be here.’

A cramp in my hand stopped me from continuing relaying what rested on my mind. My gaze drifted to the man who changed my life who had been absorbed in a movie that played on our television. Sometimes I can’t get over that he is my life partner, but I wouldn’t change that for the world.

TRIGGER WARNING: Drug use, Addiction, Death

When Marcy first handed me the pipe, it was during her graduation party. She had just graduated with her Masters degree in sociology. I guess with the stress of her courses, she needed something to take the edge off.

We had always been close, despite the route I took after High School (I’ve never been much of a scholar). Marcy went to a prestigious college and I got a job as a stock clerk at a small grocery store owned by one of my Dad’s friends.

Marcy was a straight A student and somehow managed to maintain that while spending nearly every day with her “stoner” friend. Her parents don’t realize that Marcy is the one that flirted with the troubled kid that sold pot in 9th grade. She’s the one that always got us into parties. She’s the one that wanted an escape from the pressure. As her best friend, I could’ve stopped her. I didn’t want to. I needed an escape too but I’m a coward. I needed someone to escape with me.

I had never expect things to end up the way they did. I really thought we were having fun and that eventually, we would grow out of it.

So when Marcy handed me the pipe full of heroin, she said, “A sprinkle of pixie dust, a five letter word, and a little bit of hope can change your whole life…”

She sunk down into the couch further after her hit and had such a peaceful expression on her face. Then she said, “Smack. Five letters. Do I win a prize?” and giggled. When her eyes were closed as she moved her head to the music, I pretended to take a hit and mimicked her lazy euphoria. Later, she told me that this was the first drug that helped her to feel truly happy. She said she had never been happy before she began smoking heroin.

She got a job with social services and spent a good few years excelling in her field. We sort of lost touch after a few nights of me pretending to partake in a drug that cost so many people so much.

Until she showed up at my apartment one night asking for a place to sleep. She was in a tube top and sweatpants. She had lost a lot of weight, turning from her standard attractive self to someone with a gaunt look. Her arms were marked up, and I could only assume that underneath her socks and Michael Kors sandals were more marks. Her hair was undone, her makeup was unable to cover the acne and sores on her face.

I let her in and we pretended no time had passed. She seemed anxious and talked very quickly. She seemed to be afraid of something. She told me that she had lost her job and with it, eventually her apartment.

Then, in the middle of the night, I woke up to the sound of vomiting. She had her head in the toilet and was violently shaking. I pulled her hair back and got her in the shower, all the while wondering why she showed up to my apartment. It didn’t seem like the appropriate time to ask.

In the morning, I got ready for work. I went out to the living room to wake Marcy up, but she wasn’t there. No note and no trace of her other than the bit of makeup left on my pillow and some vomit chunks in the bowl of my guest bathroom toilet.

A few weeks later, Marcy’s mom called me. She asked why Marcy stopped responding to her calls and if I could talk to her about that. It was heartbreaking to find out that Marcy had been telling her family that she had moved in with me.

An unidentified woman was found in the alley behind the fancy craft beer brewery about 15 minutes from my place. She was beat to death in a drug deal gone wrong. Apparently she had the same Michael Kors sandals as Marcy. I pray that it’s a coincidence.

I never heard from Marcy again.

Change Remain Never the same Play the game Fame Tame the heart Be smart Just start To live And give Of yourself To Others

⚠️Sorry for any spelling or grammar mistakes! Please respond with feedback I hope you enjoy! 😁⚠️

 I used to wake up every morning and go to my normal boring school. It was draining and I dreaded it. My life consisted of waking up, going to school, coming home, and sleeping. That was my life.
 I didn’t have any friends. I was dubbed the ‘weird’ kid at school because I would rather be doing something fun than being at that awful place. The kids at my school are all copy and pasted of each other. None of them seek any kind of adventure. They all just want to be boring and all they do is look at their dumb phones. 
 My parents could care less about me. They are divorced, but they decided since it’s cheaper for both of them, that they wanted to continue to live in the same house. There is constant fighting and never any peice. They are both bums. Neither of them ever provide for me, so I’ve learned to take care of myself.
 My name is Willow Peterson. I’m 12 and I’ll turn 13 in a few months. My life is a bore and I always wanted to escape it. The only way I’ve been able to get away is by exploring the woods behind the little country house I live in. I love going on adventures by myself. I wish someone would go with me, but I have no one. 
 One day, I decided I didn’t want to go to that awful school, so I skipped. My parents didn’t care and the school didn’t seem to care either. I let my parents know that I was gonna head into the woods for a while and they both said, “Okay. Don’t die.” 
 I ended up staying out there until nightfall. I was having so much fun in my own world, that I did t even notice that it was already nighttime. 
 Collecting all of my things, I headed back to my home. When I got there both of my parents were already asleep. I made myself some Mac n Cheese in our microwave. 
 After eating, I washed up and I got ready for bed. My family is not particularly religious l, but I wanted to say a prayer before I went to sleep because I was sick and tired of living the same life everyday. 
 I prayed my short prayer and laid in my bed. I shut my eyes and tried desperately to fall asleep to go to my own world in my dreams. After trying for about thirty minutes and not successfully being able to fall asleep, I sat up and went to my window. I looked at the stars and started daydreaming about the adventures I would have if I could just leave this place. 
 While I was looking out of my window, I saw something fly past my window. I thought it was just a bug or something like that. Then suddenly, the thing flew up to my window seal and knocked, asking for entry. I jumped at the creature that was staring back at me. 
 What felt like a million question flooded my mind and I couldn’t gather my thoughts. I made the quick decision to open my window and let the thing in. What’s the worst that could happen?
 I quickly opened my window and then ran away from the window seal as the little bug like thing entered my room. I watched as it fluttered around. I was terrified and didn’t know what to do. 
 “You know it’s rude not to speak to your guests right?” The thing asked.
 “You can talk!” Willow exclaimed. 
 The little thing explained that she was a pixie, more commonly known as a fairy, that was here to fulfill her wish. I asked if it would give me a life full of adventure and fun if I excepted her offer. She said “Of course. Pirates, mermaids, dragons, you name it! Your life will be your wildest imagination!” I quickly excepted after hearing that.
 “A sprinkle of pixie dust, a five letter word, and a little bit of hope can change your whole life.” The pixie said.
 “At least it’s going to change mine!” I said.
 The pixie sprinkled her magic pixie dust on me and I started to fly. The two of us started flying to her home on a beautiful Island where all fantasy is reality.
 When we arrived we were greeted by a large group of children who have also came here to escape their boring lives. We all got along instantly.
 All of us played and went on many adventures. I finally had a home with a family.. It was so magical. I felt so loved and seen. We had such a great time. 
 Then I woke up.

The End..

I had always been a useless alchemist. As an apprentice to the Royal Alchemist, my father, everyone expects great things from me. I knew all the recipes and techniques but my potions were never as strong as they should be. My father says that I’m just inexperienced but I know that it’s because I’m only half elf. Because of my human mother, I don’t have the inherent magic that all Elves should. I hear my so-called friends mocking me from behind my back; making fun of my weak potions and small ears. Soon though, that was about to change. There is a particular potion that I’ve been reading up on in my father’s notes. It was outlawed generations ago but I think it’s just what I need to get ahead. When brewed properly, drinking the potion could make even the most magically illiterate human into one of the most powerful wizards in the kingdom. I’ve been gathering ingredients in secret for weeks, and all I need now is pixie dust. Pixie dust is one of the rarest ingredients out there, despite how common pixies are. The dust must be given willingly by a pixie, meaning very few have ever able to acquire it. My father, however, is the king’s personal alchemist; he had to have at least some dust. I snuck into my father’s storeroom after he went to bed and I finally found my prey. In the very back of the storeroom on the highest shelf sat a vial marked “Pixie Dust.” Today is the day. The ingredients are prepared and my cauldron is heated and ready. I started brewing; stirring the bubbling liquid adding ingredients exactly as my father’s notes describe. The liquid turned a sickly shade of green which means it’s time to add the pixie dust and speak the word of power: a word imbued with mana that alchemists use to give potions their effects. Carefully, I sprinkled the pixie dust into the cauldron. If this fails my life as an alchemist would be over; using rare ingredients to brew an illegal potion could get me exiled from the kingdom but if it works… oh if it works… they would have no choice but to recognize me as the greatest alchemist — no, the greatest wizard this kingdom has ever known! I raised my hand above the now golden liquid bubbling in the cauldron and spoke as loudly as clearly as I could: “POWER!” And with that, the liquid grew still as it instantly stopped boiling turned a bright blue. It worked! I quickly bottled the potion, put it to my lips, and drank; not wasting a drop. I could feel the changes right away, but something was wrong. My ears grew more pointed and my teeth sharpened into points; my arms and legs grew and my body quickly became disproportionate and ripped through my clothes. A sharp pain eminated from my shoulder blades and a moment later there was a pop and large bat-like wings burst through my skin and smashed the shelves behind me. I screamed in pain and terror, and two guards burst into the room with my father in tow. They beheld my misshapen form with shock and terror. My father saw the tattered remains of my clothes on the floor and shouted to the guards, “That wretched beast has eaten my child, do not let it escape!” The guards nodded in unison and took up a defensive formation around my father. I saw more guards appear in the doorway as I felt a spear enter my thigh. I let out a roar of pain, shattering glass and shaking the foundations of the castle. Stab after stab; slash after slash; the pain was becoming unbearable. I tried to cry out and say that it’s only me, but the only sound that escaped me was a shriek of pain. I could feel the darkness closing in around me and, as the pain and terror overwhelmed me, I gladly let myself be taken by unconsciousness.

When I awoke I was outside. I shakily opened my eyes and discovered that I still had the horrific misshapen body that I prayed had only been a dream. My hands were malformed with pointed claws and my skin was leathery and green. My limbs were unnaturally thin and my shadow resembled a large bat more than a human. I didn’t immediately recognize where I was, but it was at the center of a crater spanning several kilometers in all directions. Looking at the landmarks, including the broken remains of an all-too familiar town, I realized with horror that this crater sat where the castle once was. No ruins, no remains, no indication at all that a castle once stood here. Had I done this? Was this all because I had made that potion? Did I, in my hunger for power, inhialated the kingdom I once called home? All it took was a sprinkle of pixie dust, a five letter word, and some misguided hope to change my life forever. Was it worth the cost?

A sprinkle of dust, a five letter word, and a little bit of hope can change your whole life. At least, it did mine. I knew who I wanted to be, what I wanted to become at a young age. The movies. Sitting on the Hollywood sign, waving to the cameras. That was the life meant and made for me. I tried auditions when I was young but they didn’t see in my what I saw in myself - what I knew was there. So I took matters into my own hands. All it took was the party favor offered to me at my first party: that really changed me into my highest self. I never lost hope. And my competition…well, there’s nothing death - that silly, five letter word - can’t help you achieve.

I went down in history as one of the greatest of all time. No one knew the sacrifices that were made.

“Some of our a little different.” The assassin did her best to be kind, but fairytale endings didn’t happen to girls like her. She was used to using her talents to gain money and fame, but to protect the world from people worse then her. Princess charming was a little different. His life had been handed to him on a diamond encrusted silver platter. He had only seen the money he inherited and crown he had been handed. He had only seen the peace that hid the wars his father raged. “How about I put it this way,” she said gently. “My fairy dust is poison I sprinkle on others cups. I know the five letter word: death. And my hope… It will remain a hope.”