Chapter 3
Genevieve
Why in the world can’t I stop thinking of his face, the smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and the way his eyes glittered as he looked at me?
It felt so silly. There was nothing special about the short meeting, yet my mind refuses to let go of his presence.
Though my focus was mostly on his beauty, his entire look did not go unnoticed. He looked absent, unhappy and upset almost. Thinking back, it makes me believe he was not well, not at all. There was something heavy surrounding him, lingering like a sneaky fox, something he was trying to hide.
Having a lot of empathy for others can sometimes make me lose my sense of self, putting too much of my time into understanding others’ energy and focusing on fairies who would never do the same for me.
“Right now, you need to focus on the well, fly back home and pack everything you’ll need on the way there. It’s going to be a long journey.” I told myself. This is something I’ve always done in an attempt to calm myself, make myself feel more secure in my decisions and choices.
Arriving at home, I immediately fly over to our small, cozy kitchen. It’s built like a circle with rounded walls and in the center of the room, we have a small circular table in the colors of nature.
There are plants hanging from the ceiling just in front of the two big, round windows, creating the feeling of living curtains.
My mother loves plants, saying they calm her soul when she cares for them. Her favorite is Lily of the Valley. She loves it because she thinks it looks like small babies that need to be taken care of. I have a hard time seeing it but I do love it when she explains it in her own silly, little way.
The walls in the kitchen are pastel green. Every wall in our home is either cream white, light green, siren purple, the warm embrace of brown, or blush pink.
My mother painted it based on the appearance of Esme and me, our hair colors, pink and purple, and our eyes, pastel green.
The memory of her explaining why she chose those specific colors brings a warm, comfortable feeling to my heart. Our mother’s love for her two daughters was the love that every person deserved to experience.
Reaching for the wooden berry bowl on the counter, I pack some strawberries and blueberries, absolutely my favorites. There had always been something magical about them, though I didn’t know why.
Going through the back door, I entered our fairy garden and let myself grab two apples and one pear from our trees.
I loved apples, especially when they were in the hands of a sexy man. Immediately, my mind spun to the handsome fate from my favorite books.
Stepping back inside, I remind myself to pack the most important thing. The map, which will be the last thing placed in my bag.
Entering my bedroom, I try to see if I’ve forgotten anything important. My room is mostly pastel pink, I chose the colors here. Pink, green, and gold are my favorite colors.
The room is rectangular. My bed is placed in the right corner, it’s a cream-colored metal and my bed sheets are pink with a floral pattern.
In the left corner stands a small sage bookshelf with handpainted golden details that holds all of my books.
Reading is what I love the most. It allows me to escape my own realm, dive into the world of others, and pretend like mine doesn’t exist. But the heavy realization every time I close a book never fails to strike down like lightning.
She won’t come back, she won’t knock on your door, and her sweet voice won’t let you in if you knock on hers.
The truth is too much to bear.
Usually, I will not leave my home without a book in my hand, but it’ll be too many items, too much to bring and too heavy to carry. I question myself, checking one more time if there’s anything else I’ll need.
“Oh, my pocket watch!”
I grab it from my nightstand, it’s in a deep warm gold and has the pattern of my wings printed onto it. It was a gift every fairy received once their wings had fully developed.
Glancing over my room one last time, not wanting to forget anything else, I step out and close the door behind me.
Picking up the old book from the kitchen table, I skim directly to the last page, which is... Supposed to be the map? Confusion slams into me. Why is it ripped out? Did he? No, he was kind enough to give it to me, why would he do such a thing?
Suddenly, the walls around me begin to spin as dizziness consumes my body. I’ve had panic attacks before, and the familiar feeling of one is quickly building.
There is only one map, and I need it to get my sister back.
Take deep breaths, Genevieve, everything will be okay.
Deep breaths. A slow breath in, a slow breath out.
My body paces back and forth through the kitchen, not knowing what to do, or how to act.
I don’t know that guy’s name and I can’t fly through the whole village trying to find him.
That would be ridiculous.
“Shut up!” I whisper-scream out loud for my brain to keep quiet, refusing to let my anxious thoughts control me.
There has to be another map somewhere in the book. My hands grab the tome, immediately looking through it but not finding anything useful.
I remember the beginning of the map, it showed that I needed to go to Fairy Tales, then through Fairy City, but after that, my memory is blank, like an untouched piece of paper.
I need to leave, or I won’t have the time that I need to get her back. Her birthday is in two weeks and I need her back home before that, she has to be here with us on that day.
I miss her so much, and not knowing how long the trip will take makes me anxious.
I don’t want to wait another minute for her, I don’t want my mother to wait another second.
She needs to be able to hold her second baby in her arms again, to feel that loving warmth again without a single worry in her veins.
My wings lost their strength and my legs felt shaky, and suddenly, tears were building up in my eyes. Quickly, I wipe them away with the back of my hand, I can’t cry now. I need to do this without my emotions getting a hold of me.
I snatch my bag from the kitchen table and leave my home. I feel awful for not telling my mother I’m leaving, but I’ll be back soon. Hopefully sooner than I can imagine.
Fairy Tales will be my first stop and I need to get there as soon as possible so I can continue to Fairy City. But it will be a long flight with no breaks.
You have everything you need within you to make this happen. Just believe in yourself for once. My thoughts speak, needing to push myself forward when no one else can.
I can do this.
—
I can’t do it.
I’ve been flying for hours straight. I’ve almost passed Fairy Tales and now I’m on my way to my next stop, Fairy City.
My wings are not strong enough for this and it hurts, feeling like a thousand small bones being bent at the same time.
I’m not built to fly this long without any problems whatsoever.
We fairies can’t fly this far, except for the mailing fairies who push themselves every day.
Even though it hurts, I force myself to keep going, trying to focus on my surroundings in an attempt to ignore the pain that’s spreading throughout my wings.
The sight of adorable houses comes into view, every fairy designs their home in their own way, and one specific home catches my attention.
The house is a cold, dark brown and built with tree trunks. Even though it’s dark, the colorful flowers growing on it make it stand out. Its flowers with strong colors such as neon pink, fire orange and sunny yellow.
Bringing forth my pocket watch, I check the time which shows one hour past lunch.
Almost at Fairy City, I fly down towards the ground hoping to ask someone for directions or, if maybe, they might have another map.
A girl with beautiful dark ocean-blue hair and night-black stripes catches my eye. She looks to be around the same age as me, or even a bit younger.
Landing on the sandy ground a few feet away from her, I walk towards her and introduce myself. I feel nervous, my stomach churning and telling me to turn around and ask someone else.
“Excuse me, hi! I’m Genevieve.” She looks at me with her crimson eyes and gives me a nasty, judging look.
“Hi? I’m Taya. Can I help you or something?”
“Maybe,” my body tells me to stop, but I don’t listen, “I’m looking for the best way to get to the magic well. If you have heard about that tale, do you know anything about it or the way there? Maybe there’s another map somewhere in this city?”
She looks at me like I’m a fool for speaking. The judgement in her eyes was so strong it could make a dry forest turn into flames. Her eyebrows drew in, her eyes squinted, and a smirk of evil stared back at me. And all I wanted to do was to run.
“I can get you to a madhouse for the insane ones instead!” She let out with a deep laugh, instantly humiliating me.
Not only were her eyes staring at me, it felt like hundreds. My body wanted to crumble, to disappear, and hide behind a corner where I could never be found.
Oh. I should have listened to my gut.
I have a hard time understanding how some people can be so rude. If someone came up to me with a question, no matter how weird, I would never dare to respond in such a way.
Lifting off of the ground without speaking another word, face red with embarrassment, I decide to trust my intuition to show me the right path to follow.
I keep flying for a few minutes even though my wings are begging me to stop.
Just when I’m about to take a little break, I see a tall man with dark hair walking beneath me.
There’s something about the way his midnight strands flow in the wind that seems oddly familiar, the way he moves, and even his clothes.
Could it be him?
He’s about to enter the same woods as myself.
Not letting go of the thought that has been stuck in my head, I keep wondering, why is he walking? And why is he hiding his wings underneath his sweater? It’s brutally hot today, the sun standing high on the cloudless sky... So why in the world is he covering himself up?
Flying a bit closer to him, I see something in his hands. Something white, yet dirty and dusty. It was paper, not any paper, it was old just like... The map!
I felt like a fool as my stomach sank within me. The way my breath caught in my lungs made me feel even more embarrassed than before.
Naive little girl… The words echoed in the back of my mind.
The depth of my trust had never been something good in the eyes of others, only something that needed to be fixed. Why would I trust someone I didn’t know? It was a mystery some felt compelled to solve.
And every time it was mentioned, I couldn’t help but wonder why these people let new ones into their lives, only ever expecting to be hurt by meaningless lies.
So yes, he did in fact rip out the map before he handed me the book, and maybe I was stupid for trusting him. But why? Why would he do such a thing?