Charlie Challenge - Day 9
Prompt #9: And you thought fairies weren't real __________ (finish the story).
And you thought fairies weren’t real but they’re all you can think of as she stands there beside you. The thought of angels had always scared you. But, fairies, they were okay. Tinkerbell was a fairy and she loved Peter and Peter never grew up. Right now, you just want to freeze time for a bit.
You feel her take your hand and, for a moment, time stops. You stand there, the two of you, staring into the vast ocean before you.
You had thought you’d have more questions but, when the moment comes, you have just one.
“Will it hurt?” you ask, in barely a whisper. You don’t dare look her in the eye but you feel her squeeze your hand.
“A lot of things hurt but you’ve never let that stop you before.”
You try to imagine your first breath, the one that started with tears and a loud cry as you were passed, naked into your mother’s arms, your father whispering to her that everything okay and that you were perfect.
You remember sitting in your dorm room, a college freshman, homesick and alone, listening to Bright Eyes. The lyrics made you so happy and sad at the same time because you knew at least one person understood how you felt. You were obsessed with those words from that one song: “And then they splashed into the deep blue sea. Oh, it was a wonderful splash!” You remember wishing they were true.
You recall that afternoon your father called to tell you that your cat had ran away, how you hung up the phone and sobbed at your work desk. You remember how you spent weeks in your parent’s neighborhood, walking the streets with your sisters, plastering cars and telephone poles with flyers. You remember telling your sisters it would be okay, that Scrappy would come back. And you remember crying with happiness, when you found her weeks later, scared and skinnier, but okay.
You think of the first boy you loved, that skinny, perfect boy, and how you stood before him with tears in your eyes, tears which mirrored his own. You remember feeling your world crash down as he held your hands, coaching you to breathe, trembling as you repeated after him that you would be okay and wishing so hard for it to be true.
You remember the first girl you loved, that skinny, perfect girl, and how you told her goodbye so many times. That day she moved out of state to take that job and how you told her it would be okay, that you would both survive. That night she called you on the phone and told you it was over. That day, a couple years later, when she visited home again and you finally allowed yourself to say goodbye. You told her you’d be okay, that you would survive.
You think of your brother and sisters.
For one frozen moment, you remember all those things you loved, especially those things you loved the most.
You stand there, at the end, an old lady who never really grew up.
“So, it will be okay,” you tell her.
You squeeze her hand in reassurance and allow yourself to finally look at her face. You look into her eyes and offer up a silent prayer of thanks. She smiles. You take one last deep breath, letting out your loudest yell. Hand in hand, you charge into the waves.
