Fairies Part Three

For part one, click here

For part two, click here

The knife came from nowhere. Eleanor hadn’t seen it before. All she saw was a shimmer of silver and then there was a sea of scarlet. Her mummy didn’t even get a chance to scream. Mrs Draper did. She screamed before she ran down the stairs and out of the house. She didn’t even stop to pick up her clothes.

Eleanor is still now. She is holding out her arms, beckoning the fairies to her. But not scarlet ones. There won’t be any scarlet fairies. Eleanor doesn’t like scarlet.

I wish I could see them. I wish I could be there with Eleanor and feel the flutter of their wings. I wish they would invite me into their magical world and spare me my suffering. Eleanor is fading now. I can’t see her. Come back, Eleanor, come back.

I look around the room. It is so bright, so stark, so empty. The people will be here soon. They think they are helping. I don’t want their help. I don’t want to remember the bad time. I want the fairies to come again. I used to see them. All colours of the rainbow and more besides. Except scarlet. I don’t like scarlet. But they were my friends. For years and years. My only friends, apart from teddy.

The door opens. They’re here.

“Come on, Eleanor, time for your medication.”

I reach for my teddy. Perhaps one day the fairies will come back.         

The End

***

Thoughtful Thursday~August 1 Best Quotes Life | BestQuotes
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4 Responses to Fairies Part Three

  1. Kim Smyth says:

    Lovely story and your quote at the bottom is so true! It’s me, actually, but I’m trying to change!

  2. A very touching story, Esther. There flashes in here that become very personal for me. That is probably the case for some of your other readers too.
    Your concluding part hit home too. Only yesterday, I heard of a work colleague (delivery driver) who was stabbed to death in Bristol by his own son. He was a very warm, smiley character who was liked by all of his friends at work. The news reports are very cold and factual but I can’t help wondering about the complexities and background that led to this tragic event.
    So the power of your story is even more potent, for me, today.

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