The Faerie Child
The Faerie Child sat forlornly staring into the forest where she could never return. Invisible chains bound her to her lot. Too late the afterthought of how she should have heeded the wise words of the elders. Taking a last look into the forest, slowly the Faerie Child rose from her perch, and returned to her life in the shadows.
The dwelling had once stood in shambles. Unkempt and overrun with weeds and vines, the Faerie Child worked diligently to free the house from the onslaught of plants. She left the jasmine and honeysuckle where they grew, letting their essence remain in the air. Dirt and dust had to be scrubbed away, inside and out. It was difficult to understand how someone could live as such and yet possess the ability to capture one such as herself.
Windows once nailed shut, now brazenly opened to the sunshine and breeze. No longer able to create true faerie material she once could, and none other being available, the windows stood openly draped in their nakedness. So, she gathered vines and braided them into a long chain wreath to drape over the window tops, and placed small containers of wild flowers on the sill. More plants filled the house....tables.....mantle....and the man said nothing; he just let it be.
He wasn't there much, and when he was, it was almost like he wasn't. He never spoke, just watched her. So, she occupied herself, watching him as well. And, magically things needed appeared. With so much free time alone, she would first use it wisely and constructively....cleaning, cooking....etc...The rest of the time she tried to fill with anything that would occupy her, to prevent herself from listening to the call from beyond her confines.
Her restlessness created a miniature genesis about her surroundings. Signs of forest life grew daily. And sitting and watching them became a favorite pastime. There were times she would get so enrapt with quietly watching that she would be caught unawares, then sense someone watching her. She never knew when he would return, nor did she know how long he had been there; but then again, she knew not how he ever caught her. Sighing, she would rise and return to keeping busy.
She wondered steadily about him.There were no clues laying about, or hidden, to tell her more about this man. No one else ever came or went from this house but himself. So, there was no one to ask. She could not pass the perimeter he had set either. And so, they just watched one another. She had tried to talk to him, but he could not respond to her words.
Sadness continued to plague the Faerie Child. Soon it enveloped her very spirit. She found she could attend to her assumed responsibilities, but the life drained out of her for anything for herself. More and more often she would be found, sitting forlornly atop the hill under an oak, staring off into the deep woods. The luster of light that once surrounded her, faded into a dim glow.
The changes in the Faerie Child took its toll on the man. He would stay gone longer, and upon his return the entire house shook with his angry footsteps. He was angry that the Faerie Child was so unhappy that she seemed to be fading away. He knew his hold on her was the source of her despair, and that angered him. Not knowing how to accept and understand this knowledge, not able to communicate; he could only respond to his anger, which he did not direct at himself.
She watched his storms, and quietly waited out his disappearances. Sometimes his return brought quiet calm, and a tentative reaching out with a meager tiding. The 'too little, too late' response she gave, set the storms brewing once again. And the Faerie Child would return to the hill to look out upon the forests' depths.
One day a heavy mist seemed to encircle the area where the house set. From the hill, only the tree tops of the forests could be seen. Days, then weeks passed by and still the mist had not lifted. It weighed heavily upon the ground like the sadness within her heart.
The man's own sorrow was left laying hidden about in little nooks and crannies inside and outside the house. Bottles of various shapes and sizes appeared emptily upon enclosed shelves. Tempered anger simmering within the quiet calm. The heavy mist left a damp chill in the air, and the man found his warmth in the clink of ice and glass. And, the Faerie Child stayed hid in the shadows.
Soon the wasting away of the Faerie Child plagued his conscious. Her woeful eyes haunted him, no matter how far away that he withdrew from her. He found she had moved the bottles from their hidden spots, placing them in plain view, and it pained him that he only fooled himself. He could not bare to look upon her any longer.
He left the house as he always did, and headed towards the mist. He looked back briefly before he entered the mist. The deeper he stepped into the woods, the more the mist retreated with him. The Faerie Child sat in the window watching, a puzzled on look on her face.
The friendly buzz of a bumblebee broke her gaze from where the man stood. It tickled her nose, and beckoned her outdoors. Sunshine warmed her soul as she stepped into the light. The bird's song twittered from the oak on the hill, and she lightheartedly followed the melody. A butterfly danced in circles round the oak, and she joined its dance. Soon she found herself giggling at her silliness. She got so giddy from her own giggling that she tripped over a knotty root and rolled to the bottom of the hill.
It took her a moment to realize she was not on the side where the house should be. She sat dustily on the ground, looking about in shock. Unsure if she should move. Unsure if she was really free. Unsure of what to do next. As darkness fell, and no sign of the return of the man to hunt for her, she got up and headed into the dark forest.
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