Alexandria

One

I'm not sure where I fit into the world. Everyone around me seems to know where they want to be. Who they want to be. But not me. Over the years I've just kind of been lost in the crowd. I'm just floating, wondering if I even really belong in this world. 

I know this must seem really cliche. You're probably thinking: Great. Good for you. No one knows who they want to be, kid. And you're right, that's true. No one does, but they go out and do something anyway. I haven't even done that. I graduated a couple of months ago, and I didn't apply to a single college, and I have no idea what to do. I'm stuck. All my friends have already moved away and now it's just me and my dad. I don't know what's going to happen. Anything could happen. And you now what? It's scary as hell, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little bit excited, too. 

But enough of my little introduction. I'll go ahead and tell you what happened to me that year after everybody left and I stayed behind. 

"Joshua!!" my dad's gruff voice bounced off of the trees. It's pretty incredible. We live on five acres and no matter what I always seem to be able to hear him calling me from anywhere. I guess you could say it's one of his special talents. 

I sighed and slowly stood up from my comfy spot on the ground. The sun warmed my face through the trees, and I closed my eyes and let the heat soak through my body before heading back to my home. This was my happy place. Most of our land is covered in forest, but this is one of the few spots that isn't a tangled mess. The trees come together to form a canopy above me, and there's a clearing beneath them. In the clearing are a couple of boulders, a tree stump, and a fairy circle. The mushroom ring is about ten feet in diameter and it's circumference actually makes the outside of the clearing, and the boulders and stump are in the center of the ring. All of the trees grow around the ring and it's always been like that for as long as I can remember. When I was younger, my dad would tell me all sorts of stories about how fairies would dance in the circle when no one was looking and I had always wanted to spot one. I used to come by and sit outside the circle, hoping to catch a glimspe of one or maybe even just hear one. It's been fourteen years since I first started looking and there's been nothing. 

Branches snapped under the weight of my feet as I left the forest and my small home came into sight. I lived in an old, one story, yellow house. There were two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen and a living room. And that was all my dad and I needed, really. My fingertips grazed the rusted blue metal of my dad's old truck and I cooed lovingly, "Lookin' good, Bessy old girl. Maybe Dad and I will take you out for an adventure tomorrow." 

"There you are, my son!" My dad's familiar bear-like hand squeezed my shoulder and he lowered his weathered face down to mine. "Didya see any of your fairies today?" Dad used to look for the fairies, too, but I think he only did it to entertain me. He liked telling me the stories, but I'm not sure that he actualy believed in any of them. His dark, brown eyes searched my face expectantly and his tan, wrinkled face softened into a grin. 

"No, but maybe tomorrow." His husky laugh came from deep within his beer gut and he patted my back so hard I thought I was going to fall over. He hobbled back inside, still chuckling, and left me standing outside. I guess he didn't really need to talk to me all that badly, just wanted me home. 

Later that night, after Dad had fallen asleep, I stayed awake and drew in my sketchbook. The sketchbook was something my mother had given me before she died. We both had a passion for art and we used to sit outside in the evenings and draw together. There are still landscape sketchings, and portriats of my dad and I, but now that the book was mine the pages were filled with dwarves and elves. Orcs and fairies. Goblins and bandits. All creatues from a mythical, fantastic world that I wished I could be apart of. 

I was finishing up the final touches of an elven warrior's armor when I heard a scratching at my window. I jumped, startled away from my work, and glared at the window. It was probably a bug or a leaf hitting a window. I dismissed it and returned to my masterpiece. As soon as I turned away there was more scratching and a light tap. A chill raced through my body and I took in a small gulp of air. It's okay. I live in the middle of nowhere and there's nothing out there. But, just in case, I wanted to go check and make sure. 

I slowly set my work beside me on my bed, never taking my eyes off of the window. There was even more scratching, but it was more persistent this time. Except I didn't see anything! It is pretty dark though, so I might just not be seeing whatever it was. I crept across the room and tried to steady my breathing, constantly reassuring myself that everything was going to be alright as I got closer and closer to the scratching.

Once I got a few inches within the window the scratching stopped, and all that I could see outside was darkness. I glanced over at my clock: it was three in the morning. I was getting pretty into my art, and it's possible that I was just hearing things. Nevertheless, I shakily reached up and opened the window. I drew in a sharp breath before closing the distance, sticking my blond head out of the window and looking around. Nothing. No birds, no fall breeze, nothing out of place. I was about to close the window and go back to my business as my pinkie brushed up against something small and cold on the window sill. I looked down and there was a small, golden acorn sitting next to a tiny pink flower. 

"Magic." I whispered. A smile slowly formed on my face as I skooped up the tiny trinkets and carried them into my room. "Magic." I said again, this time my smile bigger and excitment coursing through my veins. Maybe I was just tired because it was three am, but at that moment all I could think about was the possibility of small, fantastic creatures visiting my window.