New Me
Growing up, the group of kids I spent my time around weren’t the nicest. Yes, they were the stereotypical popular and preppy clique. All of the girls were pretty and came from a wealthy home. All of the boys were cute, funny, and athletic. Me, being a young, naive girl, I thought popularity was everything. I pressured my mom for more money to spend on the same expensive school clothes my new “friends” had, and I wore makeup as a 12-year-old in order to feel pretty enough. I don’t know if it was the fact that I hadn’t come from George Elementary School like most of them had, or if I was just too annoying. However, there was one girl I had grown a closer connection with. I guess you could say she was my gateway into the evil world of popularity. She was named Sarah. Sarah helped show me how to dress while making fun of my old clothing choices behind my back. I can’t tell what’s worse, the fact that she was talking badly about me, her supposed friend, or that she had the nerve to act like she never did! Meanwhile, I was ditching a whole new wardrobe from the second-hand store for just an outfit or two that were branded with the same expensive names that my popular friends debuted at school for the new year. My mom didn’t have the money, and I didn’t understand. I was opinionated and extroverted, I was an individual. They were like a fleet of robots, walking the same, talking the same. Yet they were the most accepted group of people in the school, so it was my like my dream to become one of them. No matter how hard I tried, I was never invited to their parties, I was squeezing myself in at the end of the lunch table, and I was the center of attention for their crap-talking show. The girls in the group were considered the prettiest in school, according to the gossip I was around for. They knew how to take the cutest pictures, had the most friends on Snapchat, got the most likes on Instagram. I spent hours trying to take the perfect selfie, trying to look like Sarah. But my hair wasn’t as long as hers, and I didn’t look as skinny as she did. The boys at school were absolutely in love with Sarah. Everywhere I went it was all about Sarah and how pretty she was. I coveted everything that she had and everything that she was. In order to be like her I had to do everything she did. Silly me thought any of this would make a difference. I didn’t like who I was trying to be but neither did the group of people I tried to call my friends. Sarah seemed to be less embarrassed of me when I confined my looks and personality to that of their robotic clan, however, she was blatantly annoyed at me for “copying her style” at times. It didn’t bother her when Amy did it though. Besides that, it became clear to me that not only the old me was unsuitable for them, but so was the person I had tried so hard to create for them. After continuous rejection, I finally gave up. I was only ever going to be annoying to them. Most of my days were spent in my bedroom. There wasn’t much in my small space, just a full-sized bed and a small desk to the right of it. The walls of my bedroom were all painted this intense turquoise color. It made the room feel stuffy. I remember one day, I was sitting on my bed, and my little sister came into my room. She showed me a music video on her cell phone. Four teenage boys were shown singing in different types of settings. A tall, skinny, blonde boy belting lyrics as he stood strumming his electric guitar. Another boy with golden-blonde curls struck his drum set in the middle of the street. The sound of pop/punk rock music sounded through the speakers of her tiny electronic device and that was the moment I knew who I wanted to be. An emo, purple-haired girl who only listens to classic and punk rock music. I bought all the band tees and wore all black every day of the week. After I stopped hanging out with the group of popular kids they were even ruder to me than before. Everyone started asking me when I turned “goth” or if I was “emo now”. I pretty much was but I still took offensive to it, of course, they were teasing me after all.

“James, do you have any clothes that aren’t black?”

“Hey Alice do you have cuts on your wrists too?”

Every single day I came home from school and thought about how awful the bullying had gotten after transforming into the new me. People were constantly making fun of my purple hair, and the same outfit that I wore every day. It was a pair of glossy, black combat boots, black skinny jeans, and a plethora of band tee shirts, as previously mentioned. Nobody wanted to be friends with me, so I spent all of my time in my own little world, listening to music, or writing stories on a cool app called Wattpad. I read several fanfictions about the bands I loved to listen to, as well as wrote my own short story. I woke up one morning for school. It was an average day in fall. The skies were cloudy and grey, like it was ready to storm at any moment in time. All of the cars on my street were clad with condensation from the morning fog. When I took a breath, it felt like the taste of peppermint gum. It was probably from the toothpaste I’d just rinsed out of my mouth. I got to school, and I walked into my first period class. Upon arrival, a huge wall of discomfort hit me. I felt thirty pairs of eyes stabbing into me, just like a hawk scanned its prey. I took my seat, and the silence finally broke. Whispering and chattering from all around me erupted. I wondered what the big gossip was, but nobody seemed to want to include me in their awfully quiet discussions. If I wasn’t so intent on discovering what everyone found so interesting to be spending all of their time whispering about, maybe I wouldn’t have noticed all of the people pivoting their heads to catch a quick glimpse of me. However, that was not the case. Soon enough, I felt a pit of anxiety forming like a heavy ball in my stomach. They MUST have been talking about me, right? All I felt I could do was shrivel up in my desk and wait for the class to be finished, to get away from such a nightmare. But what if this wasn’t the simple end to it, what if I had to face the rest of my classes that day, classes that were talking about the same thing as this one was. The thing that was about me. I looked at the clock and there were nine minutes left until the bell rang. The ticking of the big hand seemed to get louder, but it wasn’t moving any faster like I had wished. Just as I finished packing my school supplies into my plain black backpack, the intercom sounded over the classroom:

“Alice James, please report to the principal’s office.”

Fantasy Story WIP***

“Elle!”
“Shiloh?”, Elle’s wispy, fragile voice echoed through the tiny room.
“What are you doing in there? Don’t tell me you’re bathing again. You keep on like you are and the tree won’t have any water left for the rest of us,” she said, teasingly.
“Oh, hush,” she giggled. “I just like to feel clean.”
“Listen Elle, I am going for a night out with my workmates, I won’t be back until late. Okay? Love you!”
“Love you,” Elle called back.
Elle listened intently, waiting to hear Shiloh leave their small apartment. She was louder than a stampede of wild animals; she walked like she was stomping every step of the way. Elle giggled. She still loved her nonetheless. She stood in her little seashell bathtub, looking down at her rippling reflection in the lukewarm water. Her skin was snow. She reached up and felt her velvet cheek as her bright, cyan blue eyes glared into the twin image that was looking back at her. She quickly broke out of thought and stepped out of the tub, unplugging it and watching the water swirl down the small hole in the bottom. Her eyes followed the water as it trickled down the makeshift pipes, constructed from hollowed out twigs. They left her apartment through its leaf-walls, and then they would wind down throughout the tree, to the very bottom, where it would be soaked back up by the soil on the ground.
Elle dried herself off with a fresh rose petal and walked over to where her clean dress was laid out for her, thanks to Shiloh. It was made from the best silk around. She had to give up three acorns for the dress, but she wore it most of her time so she felt it was worth her savings. Elle counted her acorn stash. She had accumulated fourteen acorns since she’d begun working for Miss Aurora, helping her tailor all of the silk clothing in the tree. She grabbed an acorn and stuffed it into the satchel Shiloh had made for her when they first met. With her shiny, platinum hair tied into a knot at the top of her head, she quietly and hastily left her humble little abode.
The tree was really dark in the evening time, although most fairies didn’t go home until late at night. That was how she kept things secret from Shiloh. She was always out with her friends. Elle didn’t have many friends, so she spent most of her time alone. The elder-fairies built the tree a long time ago. There were several levels built throughout its hollow trunk. The top of the tree was where everyone had their apartments, the next level down was the city, where her partner spent most of her time amongst the other fairies, and then the bottom level was where all of the important stuff took place.
When Shiloh and Elle first moved into a new apartment together, a marriage apartment to fit the two of them, Elle found a small book. She could tell it had been completely untouched for who knew how long, because it was littered with a blanket of dust. It had been hidden in the closet on a shelf that was so high, no fairy would bother to look. From the floor it looked like there was nothing on it. Elle wasn’t like other fairies though. After getting the book down from the grossly dusty shelf, she wiped it off to reveal the title of the book.
“The Magic of the Tree Fairy?” She had whispered quietly, trying not to wake Shiloh from her sleep.
Elle had already read literally every book the city library had to offer. She had never once heard of this story. It wasn’t until Elle sat down in that little fairy closet and started reading about the ‘magic of the tree fairy’ that she realized it wasn’t just a story; it was a truth to be told. An important one, too. After sitting in the closet for hours, researching her newfound power, Elle set the book down. It was time to try and figure this thing out. Why wouldn’t she put her secret to the test, right?
Not a single fairy Elle had ever known or heard of had ever left the tree. The only thing that came close was the very select amount of fairies employed in the waterworks. Below the old, scary-looking tree, where its roots twisted and wound down through the earth, tunnels were dug to gain access to the roots. The way tree fairies attained water was simple: the water workers would screw these little spigots straight into the root and extract the water that the roots soaked up from the soil. They then would take these big buckets of water to all of the stations throughout the tree, where fairies would come for their supply to take back home.
There was a tunnel in the first level of the tree. When the water workers were trained, they’d been told never to go past the entrance of the tunnel. Nobody was sure what would happen if they broke this rule, but the fear of the unknown was already enough to keep them away. Not Elle, though. The entrance to the tunnels was ridiculously unguarded, it was just that the fairies had no desire to go where they were not allowed. They were comfortable and content with their lives inside the tree. Besides, no one really cared to see how the water distribution worked, as long as there was enough for them at the station come time to restock or bathe.
When Elle figured out how to slip her sneaky self down that forbidden tunnel without the flutter of a fairy’s wings, that was the moment everything she thought she’d known about herself and the world would be completely tossed around. The tunnel was dark. Usually there were fixtures of light made from fireflies. This tunnel was not kept, for obvious reasons. As Elle got closer to what looked like a dead end, she noticed small beams of light peering down into the dirt, like a spotlight. Approaching the dead end, she looked up, and about four feet straight up was a small wooden trapdoor.
“Well I guess it’s time for me to utilize you guys,” she told her wings.
Elle didn’t like to fly much.
She took a deep breath in and focused on her wings. They began to flutter, and she started to slowly lift, and hover above the ground. She got tired quickly and her wings were too weak, then Elle found herself grounded with feelings of defeat. Turning her head to the left, she saw parts of pebbles sticking out from the dirt wall.
“Hm. I wonder if I-,” she grunted, struggling up the side of the wall.
She grabbed rock after rock, placing her little feet on the ones below her. Elle climbed all the way up the wall and then she was there. At the trap door. She touched the rough, old scrap of wood that was covering whatever the light was that blinded her glimmering eyes. There were small cracks running through the door, so she slipped her tiny hands through and gripped the edges while hoisting herself up and shimmying through the tiny opening.
“Wow,” she awed, gazing up at the hundreds of little bugs whirring around above her.
“So I guess that’s what a firefly looks like in real life,” she giggled. “Much more beautiful than the illustrations.”
The sky was pitch black, with little white buttons interspersed throughout. Elle reached up to touch one, but furrowed her brows. They were untouchable specks of brightness. Looking around the foreign land in front of her, she sighed with delight. She was unstoppable. To her left she saw the tree. Her home. It looked so different from the outside. It was dark, and barren. It’s branches were sharp and they staggered out violently. The tree looked like an upside down image of a lightning strike. Elle suddenly felt a cold twinge in her heart. In her mind the tree was beautiful and full of life, reflecting what it was on the inside. In reality, it was scary and uninviting.
“Alright. I just left my tree. I am in this vast space of gigantic everything. If this doesn’t work, I will probably get lost out here alone. Here goes nothing,” Elle breathed nervously.
She sat down underneath the spooky tree and closed her eyes. Her voice echoed in her head, ‘human-size’, over and over. She did not know what human meant, but that was what her secret book had referred to repeatedly. Suddenly, a loud tear sounded in her ears. She felt cold. When Elle opened her eyes, she peered down at herself. Where did her silk dress go? Then she realized. Whatever a human was, it must have been really scary, because it was gigantic compared to fairies. There was a small piece of material on Elle’s naked thigh, so she picked it up. Bringing the tiny item closer to her eyes, focusing sharply, her heart began hurting as the image finally turned clear. A tear fell down her cheek.
“My silk dress, it’s ruined,” she choked. “Why did you have to rip, why couldn’t you just grow as I did? And now look at me. I’m naked.”
Elle buried her porcelain face into her knees, cold and sad at the thought of all her hard work put to waste.
“Hi there.”
Elle flinched, looking up quickly.
“Are you okay?” they stared at Elle with a weird, worrisome look in their eyes. “Here, take this.”
Elle smiled. She felt a kind energy emanating from them. She reached for the oversized jacket they extended to her, and her wilted wings started to open back up like a book. She felt joyful. When they saw her wings, Elle analyzed their eyes, wide open with fright. They flinched and took a step back.
“Don’t be afraid,” she smiled. “If I were my original size right now you could pinch my entire being between your two fingers. Really, it would be that simple.”
“What in the world is happening right now? Am I going crazy?”
Elle laughed, “well I’d certainly hope not. I don’t want help from crazy.”
“Hey! You’re a rude fairy then, aren’t you?” they glared.
“Wait-how do you know I am a fairy? I don’t know what you are.”
“Erm, I guess I’m a human.”
A human? That explained why Elle was the same size as them. Human-size suddenly made sense. Humans looked weird. They had dark skin, and their arms were hairy. Ew. Their head hair was really short, like maybe an inch or two. It was even darker than their skin. Elle looked down at her blinding complexion, then grabbed her hair, examining the twin shades. She was extremely confused, and also fascinated. It was weird to her that they were generally the same size as her, but they looked completely different. Their body structure was different too. The human was broadly shaped, and Elle looked small and fragile.
They flicked themselves in the head, saying, “James, wake up! You must be dreaming.”
“James?” Elle whispered.
“That is my name. Do you have a name?” James asked.
“Well of course! It’s Elle,” she beamed.
“Well, Elle, I think I must be dreaming, because fairies don’t exist.”
“Don’t you think it is just a tad bit rude to tell me I don’t exist?” She glared.
“I guess you’re right. Hey, why aren’t you like, tiny?” James questioned.
“Well, I told you before. I usually am. I turned myself big. That’s why I’m naked, and still need your jacket,” Elle laughed.
The charming fairy raised her eyebrows at him, and the corner of her lip curled up. James smiled at Elle and extended his jacket out to her. That was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Every time Shiloh left for a night out with her friends, Elle would leave the tree to go see James. She was curious about humans and she wanted to find out everything there was to know. Since meeting James she found out that humans were mortal. She also found out that they had multiple genders. James was male. Elle was confused about this one because James told her there were females as well, but she hadn’t seen one. One day, she’d asked James about this. James told Elle she looked like a female.
“Everyone at home looks like this,” Elle proclaimed. “We don’t have genders. We’re all the same,” she shrugged.
“Well that is quite interesting. If you don’t mind me asking, how do tree fairies reproduce?” James asked her.
“We, y’know, make love, have a baby.”
“Oh.”
James stared ahead and swallowed the lump in his throat.
Elle thought about that conversation a lot. It popped into her head after Shiloh left for fun with her friends from work. She wondered what James was thinking that day. She carried the thought with her all the way down the tunnel, up and out of her fairy world, and into the human land. What made James so uncomfortable?
Elle enjoyed leaving the tree during the day. Unfortunately, since Shiloh was always around when there was light it was nearly impossible for Elle to go spend time with James. When she finally got out of the tunnel, James was already sitting there, waiting for her under the tree. There was a thin, plaid blanket spread across the grass. Elle paced over to where he sat and plopped down next to him.
“You’re usually here before I am,” James said, surprised.
“So this is the first time you’ve seen me small then.”
“You’re tinier than I’d expected.”
Elle sat and looked at him in deep thought. Then she opened her mouth as if ready to say something, but nothing came out. A couple of seconds later, the words tumbled out hesitantly.
“How would you feel about coming to my world?”
“Well, what do you mean? How could that work?” James asked.
“I can grow and I can shrink. I can also shrink you down. I haven’t tried it, but I read about it in my book. Which is where I learned I could grow. So do you want to try it?”
Elle had this fiery look in her eyes. James noticed that about her. She would have these little bursts of energy shining through her eyes when she talked about something she was passionate about. Or when she felt excitement. When she was sad her bright blue eyes turned to indigo. It made it easy for James to know how Elle was feeling all of the time. She liked that he cared about those things.
“You will do anything. It blows my mind,” James exclaimed.
“I like to be adventurous. Those fairies are wasting their lives away in there and they don’t even know it. I just want to show you what it’s like in our world, please?”
“Elle, what about my wings? Or lack thereof. And what about my appearance? I look nothing like a fairy.”
“James, don’t worry. I know a way to get you to my apartment without seeing anyone on the way there. Being antisocial comes in handy sometimes,” Elle joked.