Dragonfly

Chapter Seventeen

“You can’t be serious! That’s not possible,” I gasped as my mind began to spin. All of a sudden, I felt as though I had been thrown into one of the many books I had written over the years, and now the words were attempting to drown me.

“Now let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” said Azazel, his voice remaining calm and soothing but I don’t think anything could have soothed my heart as it hammered violently against my chest.

“Not get ahead of ourselves? What are you trying to tell me Azazel? Did I do this? Did I cause all of this?” I blurted as I thought of the thousands of Fae in the world that would have been suffering. Had I been the reason for such a thing, I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself.

“Not at all. Writing a book or not, you couldn’t have made any difference to the events that have occurred,” replied Azazel.

“So what did I do? How come my book, Firefly, has so many similarities to what it happening and what has already happened?”

“Because you saw it,”

“Saw it?”

“Remember your dreams, what you saw,”

“I dreamt about these things growing out of my back,” I muttered as my eyes grew wide.

“You did more than that, you saw what could have been your own future, didn’t you?” Replied Azazel.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your dream… you saw how you could have destroyed everything had you not revealed your own true nature,” said Azazel, he paused and sighed as his gaze met the wooden flooring of my front room, “part of what you are, the race of Fae that you are, means that you would have been born with precognition”

“You’re kidding me, right? Is there anything else that I should know about myself? About what I am?”

“There is much you need to know but they are parts of you that you will only discover in your own time. I cannot help you,”

“Why does everything have to be so cryptic and mysterious with you?” I shouted angrily and as I spoke, the corners of his lips twitched into a smile.

“Perhaps it is a part of my nature,” replied Azazel, his voice holding a smug, self-satisfied tone, “it is something you will have to find out, won’t you?”

“Ugh!”

“Now, regarding the person that has been following me, I believe that she may end up being rather dangerous towards the Fae,”

“Why? Because she is stalking you?”

“No,” muttered Azazel, “because she is obsessed,”

“What does this have to do with me?” I asked, my voice was empty of emotion.

“Just watch your back,” Azazel replied before he turned to leave, he paused at my back door and pulled out a piece of paper, “also, you may find it in your best interest to find out who this man is, he knows far more about you than I,” he finished as he placed the paper on my kitchen counter and took his leave. I watched him close the door as I became alone within the four walls with only my thoughts to accompany me.

I have to be honest, out of all the people I have met in my entire lifetime, I have never met someone as frustrating and damn right irritating as Azazel and as much as I would have happily tortured him for answers to the questions he had caused me to ponder, it was not in my nature. Not only that, but a part of me was grateful to him, I still am grateful to him, because he had given me answers to questions that could have ripped me apart inside.

In many ways, he saved me.

Hesitantly, I approached the door and locked it before looking at the paper to realise that it was a photograph of my mother standing beside a man. I stared at the photo, unsure of who the man was as I attempted to remember my childhood.

Not once had we ever been visited by a man who resembled the one in the photo and yet, I felt a form of familiarity from the photograph though I was unsure as to why.

Who was he? Why would Azazel leave me this? Is this some form of lead? If so, where would it take me?

I continued staring at the photograph as I walked to my sofa and sat down, silently wishing that my mother were still alive in order for me to ask her. It seemed as though I had so many questions and if she had been still alive, she may have been able to answer some of them for me.

My eyes began to sting with tears as I began to remember my mother. I had never truly forgiven her for what she did though I wished that I was able too.

“Why did you do it, mum? Why did you abandon me?” I thought as I stared at the beautiful, young woman in the photograph. Her hair was a beautiful honey blond and her eyes were a piercing, sapphire blue. “Were you like me? Were you Fae? Is that why you did it?” I muttered as I remembered how Azazel had emptied the blood baggie, “Were you unable to live with yourself because of what you were?”

I sighed. It was hopeless talking to a photograph as I knew it would never respond, never answer my questions. A sharp stab pierced my heart as I placed the photograph onto the black glass coffee table.

“To be honest with you mum, I’m not sure I can live with myself. I don’t know how to feed and what if, the way I feed, kills someone. Could I live with myself?” I mumbled as a single, icy tear trickled down my cheek.

I sat there for a long moment, unable to move my body as the tear slowly fell from my chin and hit the floor. In that time, I just wanted to give up. I wanted to crawl into bed, wrap myself in my duvet as my body was swallowed by a bubble of emotion.

“What is with me?” I suddenly snapped as I forced myself to stand, “I am Fae and I should be proud of that! I should be proud of who and what I am not wallowing in self pity! I have to be strong!” I walked towards the bottom of the stairs, “I won’t give up! I can’t let myself give up! I have to follow my heart and keep fighting for what I believe in! No matter what!”

With that, I left the room and went upstairs as I started sorting through my belongings, deciding what to keep and take on the journey with me and what to sell in order to keep our heads above water.

I couldn’t be afraid and I knew that, so I didn’t allow myself to feel. The emotions would just cloud my vision and lead me to do something that I would undoubtedly, regret.