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"Mom! Dad! Come here! I finished my room!" I shouted as I stepped back by the doorway to admire my work. I heard my parents rush up the stairs and it made me feel important; they had been waiting so long to see this.
"Oh, Hannah! It's beautiful!" my mother breathed with a smile as she peeked in through the doorway.
I felt my father lay a heavy hand on my shoulder, "You did a good job, baby girl,"
I grinned with pride as I looked at my room. On the floor was green shag carpet to imitate grass and the ceiling was blue with cotton balls glued onto it here and there, for clouds. I had painted a couple apple trees along my walls, one behind my bed, one in the corner by my dresser and one by the door. I used artificial branches that came up from the paintings and into the ceiling. Colorful Christmas lights were strung everywhere and glowed bright to indicate fairies. Then, there was my bed.
It was the best project in my room. My dad carved it for me out of wood and I made my own sheets and quilts to put on it. From the bed individual bed posts, I strung a long swag to the center of the ceiling above my bed where I had painted a large monarch butterfly. I put a transparent white fabric on the four swags and tied a ribbon I had sewn onto it. My canopy bed, carried by a monarch butterfly.
And this was my lovely room! I giggled and began to roll on the carpet like a little girl. It was finally completed! It took me four months to do since we moved in, but I got it done.
"You'll need to invite your friends over from school and have tea in your fairy room," my mother suggested with a warm smile. I frowned.
"I don't have any friends, mom," I told her as my dad disappeared back down the hall. Probably to get back to watching the television.
"What about that Brittany girl you talk about all of the time?" my mother sat down beside me on the grass and gazed over at me as I stared up at the clouds.
"Mom, she's the one that bullies me all of the time. We're not friends," I said sternly.
"You mean to tell me that you have no friends?" I shook my head, "Well, why not invite a couple girls over that you would like to be friends with. I'll make the invitations tonight and you can give them out to the girls tomorrow during school," she sat up with an encouraging smirk.
"Alright, mom," I forced a smile. My mother was so optimistic. I wore my smile until I heard her go down the stairs, then I fell back into the grass and brought up a tear. Just a single tear.
I imagined the fairies that twinkled above my head would come down and wipe that single tear away and tell me they were my friends but those were just Christmas lights. It was the sad truth. Ever since I started school here in this new town, I began to realize that they weren't real and it tore me apart. I hoped that completing this room would revive my little girl beliefs and make me happy once more. But only for a moment. A single moment that I felt the magic that I had created.
I grabbed my stereo remote off my nighttable and flipped on the CD Player to listen to my Celtic songs. I crawled into my bed, drew the curtains and pulled the quilt over my head. The sweet singing quickly lulled me to sleep, to enjoy my dream world once more before I grew up forever.
- by Mademoiselle Violette |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 01/03/2009 |
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- Title: Fractured Reality
- Artist: Mademoiselle Violette
- Description: That's just a working title. Um, this is a short story I thought of as I laid in my own fairy bed. This kind of reflects what I'm going through right now with being 14 and re-discovering my little girl beliefs along with my dramatic teen life with my boyfriend and fantacising the perfect boy like every girl does. ^_^ Enjoy, comment, rate and I might write the next chapter!
- Date: 01/03/2009
- Tags: fractured reality fairy dream imagination
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Comments (1 Comments)
- purple_artemis00 - 01/09/2009
- While I love the description, it isn't much of a story. It's more of a prose poem about how cool your fantasy room is. Develop it more. Also, for such a short piece, you don't bring the loneliness into the equation early enough. You only tell the reader towards the end and I feel that leaves little time to develop your character.
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