Dead Men's Bells (gxg)

Chapter 4

I don't know what made me scream more, the fact that I was staring into eyes, or the fact that those eyes belonged to a beautiful, winged girl who stood maybe 8 or 10 inches tall. I thrashed my arms and legs, using them to backpedal up to the headboard where I sat clutching the comforter and staring at the girl who was now hovering on dragonfly-like wings in front of me in order to stay away from my flailing limbs.

"What the fuck?!" I finally exclaimed.

"We're so sorry Cristyn, we just came to welcome you back to the house!" The tiny girl spoke in a voice like little bells. She held her hands out to her sides, and at that point I realized that there were dozens of the tiny people scattered around the room. As one, they all bowed to me, and my eyes grew wide. Did I drink something? Was I still dreaming? 

I rubbed my eyes, thinking this couldn't be real. I remember when I was a kid playing out back in the garden and seeing all the little houses among the gardens. My grandmother always said that it was her fairy garden, and I always assumed it was a joke. But it looks now like she was quite serious, and that I might have just inherited them.

Oh my god! They're the tenants in the will! Of course! Fuck!

"How is this possible?" I wondered to myself.

"Are you asking how are fairies real? Or how did we come to be here with you in this house?" the girl asked, while trying to answer my rhetorical question.

"Both, I guess," I replied with a shrug. At this point I was trying not to freak out, but it wasn't going well. My plans for buying myself new furniture and redecorating for Christmas were rapidly fading. At this point I was just trying to stop myself from seeing if my grandmother had left any liquor behind, though my stomach was already churning at the moment.

"Do you really want me to answer all of this now? Or would you rather take some time to process things? I know this can be a little overwhelming," she replied, flitting closer on her little wings.

I stood up, not even answering, and stumbled over to the bathroom. Gratefully seeing the toilet, I knelt in front of it and purged myself of whatever was left in my stomach. When my body was done heaving, I just stayed there, draped across the toilet seat, too weak to move.

"Feeling better?" I heard the little chimes in my ear.

I reached carefully behind me, only to find her figure perched on my shoulder, her arms wrapped around my hair to keep it out of my face. I didn't even feel her doing it, but I appreciated the gesture at the same time I was reminded of her existence and heaved once more for good measure. Nothing came up, but it's the thought that counts.

"Me being real really bothers you, doesn't it?" the bells were deeper now, as though they were mourning at a funeral, and I felt bad that I'd hurt her feelings.

I closed my eyes, pretending that it was someone else holding my hair. If I couldn't see her, maybe I could talk. Kind of like when you meet someone online, they're easier to talk to sometimes because they're not right there in front of you, so there is a little less inhibition. "It doesn't bother me. At least, I don't think so. But it does scare me. You're not supposed to be real. Is everything I thought I knew, wrong?"

"If it helps you feel better, you believed in us when you were younger. But I guess as you grow up, you forget playing with those you assumed were your imagination," she said in her sad voice.

I turned in confusion, getting only a glimpse of her out of the corner of my eyes. "I used to play with fairies?"

The bells were tinkling happier now. "You played with me. When you climbed trees, I was always there with you in the leaves. When you were playing make believe, I was the one sitting on your shoulder playing along with you. When you were in the sunroom reading, I was the one curled up on your chest listening to you and falling in love with the same characters as you did. We did everything together!"