Pixie Dust

The girl pressed her face as close to the keyhole as she could. She was so close, in fact, that she could almost fit her whole face through it! If it wasn’t for her pointed ears, she surely would have had her head through the hole, and could have freed herself from this dark, wooden prison.

Well, there would have also been her shoulders to contend with. And then the wings that branch out so far - that would be rather difficult to fit through such a small space.

She shrank back into the drawer, stomping her feet over and over. Tiny golden sparkles shot out from each step she took, quickly fading into nothingness and taking away the little light inside. The white pompoms on her tiny shoes bobbed with each stomp, wobbling from side to side like a boat caught up in a storm. She put her feet back on the ground, closed her eyes, and took a deep calming breath in.

The drawer had been slammed shut and locked tight just after she’d found the awful shadow creature, which always likes to hide in those hard-to-reach places where he thinks they won’t track him down. The girl had faithfully followed her best friend through the skies and through the night, reaching this tall and looming townhouse in the early hours of the morning before the sun had even started its ascent. They snuck inside through an open window and found the shadow hiding in a dresser drawer in the children’s nursery. After pulling him free (which was incredibly difficult to do for someone as itty-bitty as she), the drawer slid to a close, and the wicked thing turned and stole away the key. She let out a hrrump in annoyance.

A laugh came from outside. A feminine, gentle, sweet laugh. The girl flew towards the keyhole yet again, looking into the bedroom to find the source of the sound. That sound, that laugh, that made her want to rip out her hair and stuff it into her eardrums, so she’d never have to suffer through the dreadful sound again.

Her eyes locked on where it came from. Who it came from.

The brunette girl was barely older than a child, wearing a white silk nightdress all the way down to her ankles and a blue ribbon tying back her hair. She laughed and laughed and laughed, and then did something even more outrageous.

Her hand touched him. Her HAND! Who did this child think she was, touching him like that? No matter that he was pretending to be upset, and thought that soap would be the perfect fix to stick the wicked shadow back to his feet. No, her hand needed to remove itself from his body immediately, thought the little trapped girl. Or else the hand will be removed from the rest of her.

The walls felt like they were closing in; the only light coming through that obnoxiously too-small keyhole, the light that sparkles from him. Blonde hair, angelic blue eyes she could stare into all day long. And of course, a childish wonder about life and the world that made everyone else feel forever young. Her best friend, out there in the big wide world, with another girl laughing at his jokes and touching him.

A scorching hot anger crashed through her, starting in her head and swiftly flushing all the way down to her toes. Her vision blurred; the only thing she could focus on was that girl, who just handed the boy what looked like a tiny metal cup. He placed it on his finger and tapped her on the nose with it, making her blush.

The girl saw red. She clenched her fists as tightly as she could, making half-moon impressions appear on her palms, flapped her wings, and shoved against the lock with as much force as she could muster. She felt the drawer begin to budge, and after another harsh barge against the old wood, it opened, leaving just enough room for her to fly out. Her fury was obvious on her face, but the boy paid her no mind. He watched her fly towards them, smiled, and gestured to the other girl.

Her anger only festered and grew as she approached. Her wings were still only as big as she, so it took some time to get across the room. She studied the pair, sat on her bed together, whispering and laughing like they'd known each other for ages. How was she ever supposed to trust him, to have faith in him, if he could so easily forget her and move on to the next pretty girl? (Not that this child was pretty in the slightest).

“Hey, Tinkerbell, I was looking for you. Come and meet Wendy; she’s going to come back home with us! I think you’ll be fast friends.”