Thank You, Protect You, Love You

Dear Chloe,

I don't know when you'll get to read this, or even if you will. It's one thing to write it, it's another to get it to you without the worry of it landing in the wrong hands. It's the same worry that's been paining me over other letters to people on the outside. People like your tutor.

You're a very smart girl. I want you to know that. And I want you to know that I'm sorry for the some of the situations you've had to see me in. It's not your fault, and since we met, you've done nothing but help me, and I thank you so much for that.

The thing is, there are some bad people in this world, just like the creature from our story. And it is my belief that you and I are both stuck in the middle of it. You don't have to listen to a word I'm saying, but if I am to disappear one day, like that pixie, I need to know you'll have some kind of answer, even if it be a truth that draws a tear. I never had answers. I need you to promise me that if ever you feel endangered from your Mum, or your Uncle Cameron, or anyone, I need you to be brave and just walk away, because somewhere out there, there will be an angel that will find and rescue you.

You'd do that for me, wouldn't you? Because just like your tutor, you need to keep safe. And the pixie's going to do everything he can to protect you, but if ever the time comes, some effort may be required on your part. And just so you know, Uncle T loves you. He's waiting to finish the story.

T.

[298 words]

Tutor

He punched his fist against the desk, emphasizing the point he was making with surprising humour. His points were usually quite valid, but sometimes they came out a little different, what with his 'talk-now-think-later' method. His accent rumbled through the room, both Scottish and Australian, spreading contagious smiles to all the students he taught and let's face it, socialized with. The giggles from the odd person would at times burst into roars of laughter from everybody, sometimes accompanied with a bit of student-tutor immaturity. His constant grin remained, and his cheekiness, knowing too well the jokes that were going to land him on "that site". The girl scribbled furiously with her pen across 4mm high letters, indecipherable to anyone but her. I have to watch what I say now, don't I?

[131 words]

Constraints

He cringed away from their company, desperate to be on his own. Anything to get out of that room, anything. The girl would be looking for him. He had to find her before they did. But their grasps were tight, constraining him, telling him not to move. The anger was growing inside him. If he could just loosen one of them, he could set off the rest. He wriggled and turned this way and that, desperate struggles unraveling his all his logical thoughts. Just panic and pain remained. He had to get out. He didn't belong.

[96 words]

Drawing Red

He sighed, picking up his pencil at the teacher's third request. Drawing was not something he enjoyed. Not anymore. But it was too late to change classes, and to be honest, what else would he change into? He had friends in this class. It didn't matter if he failed. Nothing mattered anymore. Today, they were drawing the human form. At least, that's what he assumed they were doing. The last time he'd actually paid attention, that was something that had come across. He been scratching away at the paper roughly, a man's torso. The muscles weren't too defined, and he did that deliberately. Slashing over the paper skin with his pencil scar after scar, stitches and smudging. Bruises. Blood. He silently burrowed a red pencil from his friend's pencil case to add in the detail. Great droplets dripped over the page, horrible and staining...

"Nick!" he looked up to see the teacher's concerned expression.

[154 words]

Time Outside

I wondered through the streets, trying to find the address I had written down. I was only given an hour, and I had already wasted ten minutes. Did I mention finding this address was not on their to-do list? If they found out... well, I didn't want to think about it. An afternoon jogger was running towards me. They hadn't noticed me, so when I interrupted the woman's path, we almost collided. I had startled her.

"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed, intending to keep jogging past me. I quickly asked my question.

"Do you think you could tell me where this address is?" I showed her the scrawled note.

"Oh, that would be next on your right."

I muttered my thanks, slightly disappointed that she kept on running in the opposite direction. Didn't anyone notice me? I tossed the thought from my mind, hurrying to the street she had pointed out. The house would be on the right, too. I would deliver my message, and get the hell out. Do my deed, only to go away again. And I didn't know how long it would be until I saw the outside world again.

[192 words]

Story Teller

Hooray! A beautiful, long daily.



"Tell me a story."

He looked at her through his overlong dark hair, and let out a weak smile.

"I'm not a story teller."

Her disappointment showed, "But everyone has a story they can share!"

"Not me," he sighed, looking away and out the window. The curtains were open again.

"I'll start you off," she encouraged, "once upon a time..."

He returned his gaze to her, the beautiful little angel that she was. He fought to think of something happy, that would have a happy beginning, and a happy end. It was hopeless. Death, darkness and misery surrounded him. So, he focused on the sunlight pouring out of her.

"... there lived a folk town. Fairies and stuff," he shrugged. He really wasn't good at this sort of thing. But he had to make an effort for her, didn't he? Who knew what kind of effort her estranged Uncle made? "There were lots of lights..."

He trailed off. He could remember seeing the lights at that train station from the power lines, from the headlights. She interrupted, adding her input, "Lanterns."

"Yeah," he admitted, returning his mind to the room before him, "And sparkles. Stars. The fairy folk loved to dance under the stars. It was a tradition."

She leaned forward in her eagerness, causing him to start in surprise when he jumped into his lap, awaiting on the rest of the story. "Keep going!"

This time, he smiled properly, playing along with her fantasy. "Until one day, their dancing was interrupted by a -" he wanted to say horrible, fairy-snatching monster by the name of Cameron, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. "terrifying creature from another land."

Her eyes lit up in astonishment, "A dragon?"

"No," he thought about that. Some dragons were precious. This one was far from it. "It was an unknown creature. Which made it all the more terrifying. No one knew who it was, or how to control it from destroying the villages and all the folk that lived in them. Fairies, unicorns, pixies. You name it. There was a beast roaming their homes trying to destroy everything they held dear."

"What happened?" she whispered. It was amazing how easy this story was coming along now he put the effort into it. As long as he didn't tell her it was based somewhat off a true story. To see her happy, listening to him, made him feel that much better. To fulfill her wishes made it worth it.

"Well," he stumbled. How was he to describe the little guy's capture. Who was the little guy? Were pixies male? "Shortly after the discovery of this creature, a pixie was taken unwillingly into his lair. Now he was a very brave pixie, but he was also very small, and the monster knew this. He enjoyed it. But the pixie didn't. But he knew if were to try and escape, the monster would be unleashed upon the village again. The fairies were very upset that he was missing, but at the same time, he was saving them. And it was harsh, but they couldn't thank him enough for that."

"Did the pixie die?" she whispered, twisting around to look at him. He avoided her gaze again. Those beautiful, piercing eyes, slicing through his heart...

"No," he admitted, "Not yet. He had a task to perform first."

"What was it?"

He grinned, pulling her gently off his lap, "You'll have to wait and hear the rest."

"No!" she moaned, "You can't end it there!"

"It's not finished," he assured her, "but you have to go home sooner or later."

He could've kicked himself. Of course he didn't want her to go home. He couldn't see over there, couldn't make sure she was kept safe... but she seemed to acknowledge this information.

"Don't forget where we're up to," she insisted.

"I won't," he whispered. How could he? It was where he was now. With a task ahead of him. And the little pixie was unprepared. But he didn't let her know that.

[674 words]

Why

Why were things never as they seemed, ever? There was always something keeping it from being the same. Always that difference that made all the change. That little notch that needing turning, that little leaf that had yet to fall, never in the right place. The last puzzle piece wouldn't ever fit, when in theory, it should. The first thought, a mere coincidence, the rest was hard to count. A million eyes could never see it as it were. Overlooked, a button hole, waiting for its catch. When it comes it all fits. The question is, why?

[97 words]