Note: This is a rough draft! Know that anything from names to scenes to what a character looks like is subject to change, but I will try to give you a heads up if anything changes that will affect how you read.
Please feel free to offer feedback in the comments. Tell me what you like, what you don’t like, and what you think needs to change. Thanks and I hope you enjoy!
She used to think that she had a normal life, boring even. Every morning, her alarm clock went off at 6 am and she’d haul her ass out of bed after the first or second snooze alarm had passed and march to the bathroom where she’d use the toilet while mushing her face with her palms in an attempt not to fall asleep while peeing. And then it was time to get dressed, eat breakfast on the couch while watching the news, leave the apartment, and then frantically turn around to reenter said apartment in order to brush her teeth, causing her to run just a tad bit late.
Then, one morning, when Gwen reached over to slap the alarm clock until she found the snooze button, it—no, whatever squishy thing that was on top of it—yelped.
So she shrieked and jerked backwards, causing her head to slam into the wall behind the bed. Rubbing her eyes, blurrily, she couldn’t decide if it was worth the potential risk to reach over to the same side table that held the thing in order to grab her glasses.
“Here,” a small voice said.
And Gwen’s glasses were suddenly being slid onto her face. She gasped when her vision cleared and she could fully see the tiny creature fluttering in front of her.
She, at least Gwen assumed it was female, looked exactly like a miniaturized human, except in the face. The features there were a slight degree sharper with prominent cheek bones, a tiny pointed noise, and tiny pointed ears beneath the curly, long brown hair. And the eyes looked old. Far too old for that unlined face.
And there was the matter of the wings.
They were whirring too fast for Gwen to get a good look at them, but they looked iridescent, like dragonfly wings.
It took a bit of effort for her to resist the urge to swat at the—fairy?—that was studying her face just a foot or less from her.
“What are you?” Gwen finally said.
The fairy winced, flying backwards easily to return to her spot perched on the alarm clock. “This is awful.”
“You’re not the one hallucinating.”
“This is so awful.” The fairy sighed, pressing her face in her hands.
“You don’t remember. I was sure that you would, even if the others thought I was crazy.”
“There’s more of you?” Gwen said, then winced at the look on the fairy’s face. “I mean. Of course there are more of you. You can’t be the only fairy in the world. You are a fairy, right?”
She nodded her head.
“Well, um…” Gwen noticed the time on the clock under the fairy’s swinging legs. “I’m going to be late for work!” She frantically peeled herself out of her pile of sheets and blankets to propel herself to the bathroom. She slammed the door closed with her heel as an afterthought to keep the fairy out.
She didn’t want company while she peed and she needed time to process besides.
As she brushed her teeth, she wondered if she should just call into work. She figured that the appearance of strange creatures—i.e. hallucinations—was a damn good reason to take off work.
Besides, whatever the little being wanted was probably at least a little more important than accounting…
When she opened the bathroom door, the fairy wasn’t anywhere in sight. Gwen sighed in relief, sagging against the doorframe. She wasn’t crazy after all, or, at least, not that crazy. But she should still probably call into work and tell them that she was sick. She obviously needed more sleep. Or something.
“I thought you said you were going to be late?”
Gwen clamped a hand over her mouth to prevent the shriek that was surely there below the surface. She didn’t want her neighbors checking up on her. “You need to stop doing that,” she said, glaring at the fairy.
“Doing what?” The fairy glared back at her from her perch on the ceiling fan. She was hanging backwards off one of the blades with her legs hooked over it at the knees.
“Well it isn’t my fault that you don’t remember anything.”
“Right,” Gwen said. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“I’m called Tressa.” The fairy unhooked her legs and did a little flip to return right sight up. She flew to Gwen to return to her place hovering close to the human’s face.
“Why have you been crying?”
“We used to be best friends,” Tressa said. “And now you’ve forgotten about me.”