Bright Lights: Stories I Wrote For Prompts & Contests

Merged¦ Long-listed for The Westbury Faery

"Willow, we must find it!" Dad says quietly but insistently so Mum won't hear.

"I know, Dad."

"Before it's too late," he adds, muttering under his breath.

I sigh, not knowing how much longer our community can be sustained like this. We really must find the Westbury faery.

"So, where do you think it could be?" I ask. We don't even know whether it's female or male.

"I haven't a clue. We've searched everywhere, and no one seems to recognise this picture," he says, pointing to the sepia photograph of an old lady. She has woollen clothes, sits in a rocking chair, and seems to have had something to do with the mystical creature we must find. Yet, there is no trace of that woman. Not anymore.

"Arthur!" a voice calls from the kitchen. The smell of soup wafts beneath my nose; the conversation is over.

***

I rush out of the front door into the rain. Rivers of water slide over my feet in torrents, before running down the gravel path. The trees seem to surround me ominously.

Heart pounding, palms sweaty. The path should be familiar from daily country walks, but it isn't. Gravelly fragments of rocks slide beneath my feet, and the swishing of the rain doesn't make the darkness any easier to navigate through. However, the darkness, the rain, and the jog clear my brewing mind. Even at this time.

I know it is 2:55a.m.; my luminous watch reminds me of that even in the gloom. I hope Mum and Dad haven't woken up yet. Especially Mum: her sharp voice stings even in my memory.

There are flower fields ahead of me, pulling me out of my thoughts. I can smell the gentle fragrance of the snapdragon blossoms. A fierce ecstasy pulses in my chest, and I force my feet to pound even faster- harder- on the turf, abusing the last of my energy. Then, I slump onto a mossy, yellowed rock, feeling my leaden legs. Their heavy feel makes my smile, satisfied. For the first time, my mind is crystal clear. Thus it is that I hear a quiet tinkling sound even over my heavy pants.

Stopping myself from breathing for a few seconds, I strain my ears. There it is again. A soft melody, almost carried away by the wind, but still there. I squint at my surroundings, scanning the area. When I find nothing, I imagine that it must have been a mind trick, but I have not felt so at piece with the world for ages, and my mind seems calm for once. I wait a second, pricking my ears.

Finally, another gasp of song escapes from a little mouth, which I perceive on a flower nearby. I gasp. Please, tell me this is what I am looking for. If this were the Westbury faery, all my problems would be solved. Please.

I imagine dad, his arms enveloping me like a warm blanket, and mum, gazing at me with wide, astonished eyes. I'm sure she would say, "So you were right. Oh my dear, well done!" She'd look at me with loving eyes, rubbing a hand against my cheek. I want that so much...

Quietly, I get up, but every step I take seems to echo across the clearing. I hope it won't hear me. For a moment, I lose sight of her. I snap my head from side to side before my eyes track her down again, and now I'm not looking where I'm going; I'm just making sure I don't lose her. Snapdragon stems wilt underneath my feet, trampled, but I don't care. This being is nothing like I've ever seen in dad's lab or in faery history books.

A pearly, translucent veil envelopes the delicate, white being, whose head is hidden in its hands. The being's shoulders shake, long fluorescent hair cascading over them, much like suspended rivulets of water. Is it an alven? Or an ashray? Or even a devas? Or is it the Westbury faery? Six pairs of dragonfly-like wings protrude from its shoulder blades, and a lilac substance seems to patter down onto its lap. I notice that it leaks from her eyes- are they tears?