I remember that when I was living in Iceland I had a dream that faries were real. I dreamed that I had stumbled upon a garden where all of the plants (including trees) were all gathered in one area creating a garden. I had dreamed that I woke up on a flower bed of red roses plucked clean of thorns. The first thing my eyes lay upon was a fairy in front of my facar holding some kind of sack with torn rose petals. My first thoughts were 'Harlyns Fairy' because of a short story I had read. The fairys hair was white and her eyes were tainted red like an albino's. Not knowing that much English I didn't know what if was saying. Know that I look back at this I think I could here the words "Hello" and "Child". Her wings fluttered so fast I could just pick out the blue and purple that was decorated with spots of white and purple. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she flew away slanting a little due to the weight of the sack. Harlyns Fairy was my favorite fairy tale at the time and I read it al least 13 times.The grass tickles my ankles as I pushed myself up and walked around. A hole was carved out on a nearby willoe tree. I felt like something was grabbing at me as I walked towards the tree. The whole world fell and I saw darkness. The fairy appeared once more holding a swadle of blankets in one arm and the sack in the other. Her tainted red eyes were glossed over as she spoke the fimliar phrase I always heard my mom say. ".Ég hef það gott." Even though I knew she wasnt fine.
The swadle of blankets looked all weird and clunky. Before I knew it, she dropped to her knees in tears all the peacefulness Of the garden made a dark atmosphere. I opened the swadle to find a still born baby. I took one of the torn rose petals that fell on the ground and pressed it against the baby's chest. The baby's fingers than began to twitch and color came to its skin. The baby's eyes opened and they were a violet color. The Fairy mother looked at her baby and that's when I noticed that suddey I was small. I guess I missed something. She looked unbeliveing. She crawled over and looked at the rose petal on the baby's chest. She looked at me and smiled. The next day an old lady moved into our neighborhood. She was an albino with a baby. My dream ended when my brother poured cold water on me.
(Spert for grammar or punctuation mistakes. Icelandic is in fact the first language I spoke.)