Reaction

She knew something. It was obvious - anyone could have seen it. But what? What was she hiding from me, her daughter? No matter how much I thought about it, I couldn't work out why she wouldn't tell me the truth. 

It did occur to me that she might have had a part in all this, but I realised pretty quickly that that wasn't what had happened. To put it bluntly, Mum sucked at acting, and I would've known straight away. Of that much I was certain. What was more, she had never met Jon before, because his youth had surprised her as much as it had me. I'd heard her ask him if he was sure he was properly qualified.

I gave up on trying to get anything out of her - it wasn't hard to see that she wasn't going to budge - and went up to my bedroom. After the cool emptiness of the room I'd been in at Mathew's house, it seemed bright and cluttered, and absolutely full of stuff that nobody would ever need. Why did one need so many clothes? Why did one need photos on the walls when there was a large window just the other side of the room? Were so many books really necessary, when most of the stories were the same anyway?

Hoarding is for humans, not us, I thought, and then wondered why that had come into my head. I was a human! But the confusion soon passed - it was probably just an after effect of whatever otherworldly concoctions Mathew had used to drug me. I was allergic to most medicines. Always had been. They made me come up in a rash - or ... or spots.

If he knew so much about me, did he know that? It wasn't something he could have got from asking my mother. Well, if he had she wouldn't have been able to explain it, since nobody could. Even the doctors were at a loss, since I didn't have any of the components in my genetic makeup that should have made me allergic to the simplest of medicines like ibuprofen and paracetamol. Of course, penicillin was out of the question.

I looked out of the window, staring at the garden. It was so small. So enclosed, captured by tangible things like fences and railings - held back, I almost said, locked away, out of sight. Wouldn't it be so much nicer if humans gave up on trying to contain nature and just let it go?

There it was again - that word. Humans. As though I was distancing myself from them, though I didn't know why. Humans. But I was one. I couldn't possibly be anything else! Why, my parents were just ordinary people. Mum worked in a school, as a music teacher; Dad was a fireman. They weren't anything special. I was going crazy.

"Completely mad," I said aloud, and looked in the mirror. For a second I could swear the face that looked back at me was not mine, but I blinked and there I was, looking strained - and yes, there were spots across my face, like the worst case of acne I'd had in about four years, since I first hit puberty.

It was obviously the drugs. I could tell that instantly, though I wasn't about to explain to Mum that I'd been knocked out by some fairy juice. 

And that's when I realised I knew what he could be. A fairy. Well, it was ridiculous, but only as ridiculous as any of the other theories I'd come up with. I mean, it was that or an alien, and frankly he only seemed to have two eyes and two legs to me. But a fairy - that was feasible. As feasible as any of this, anyway. Wasn't it? 

The End

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