Little Brat

Little Brat

Reads 7
Votes 1
Parts 1

Ongoing<5 mins

Last published Tue, May 17, 2016

eren fairies fluff human lévi

Fairies are magical creatures that live in a variety of different places, some from the mountains some who lived in the forest. Their wings are always the same color on the left and the right. But when one fairy is born with two they are scared of a old legend. Will one lonely fairy find happiness and love with a mysterious human with silver colored eyes? Or will the rumors be true that a fairy with both types bring bad luck?

All Rights Reserved

Join the largest storytelling communityGet personalized story recommendations, save your favourites to your library, and comment and vote to grow your community.

You may also like

A Swing in the Park

It was the summer of 1976 when my father left us. It was a particularly memorable summer and my mother suffered terribly. My father had left her for a younger woman and moved into her apartment which was above a flower shop where she worked. My mother struggled making ends meet and got a job as a nursing assistant at Peaceful Haven, an old folks home that still exists although it is very badly run down now. Because she could not afford a baby sitter, my mother took me to work where I sat in the lounge and watched TV and read books. On her lunch breaks she took me across the street to Faulkner Park where she made out with Fred while I wandered around eating my sandwich. But I quickly grew bored. I was 8 then, a bright young girl with an active imagination. I imagined doors in the sandbox, swings into the sky, doors to another world. And in the rooms of the old lost souls were more doors only waiting to be opened. I took those souls with me on my adventures and eased their loneliness and age with my contagious eagerness to believe anything. And then a terrible thing happened to me, so terrible I could not speak of it. I was in hospital, unable to believe anymore and my old friends came to visit me and to believe for me. I am 30 now, and as I write this and look back I wonder if I still believe. And yes, I do. Believing got me through that summer and believing got my father to come home again.

Content Guidelines