A Fairy Out of Her Tale - Dear Diary - 16. Scene 16

8th January 1995

Dear Diary of Truth,

The nurse tried to serve something dead on my plate. That bloody slab of some no longer recognisable animal stared at me and I stared back at the nurse, hoping they would understanding my unvoiced question. But they left the room without making eye contact. Did they really expect me to eat that disgusting thing? Or was it a message for a killer like me? - now that I’ve taken out a life, I should only feed from other dead things?

One taste of that thing made me gag. Awful. Horrible texture. Blood everywhere. Still, I chewed on it until nothing was left and I needed to puke.

I’ve killed and I’ve eaten the dead. Any fairiness still remaining on me has by now been flushed down the toilet with the other undigestible chunks of my meal.

And yet, I can’t really care about it. My stomach still makes unpleasant sounds and is keen to let me know it isn’t happy about whatever I put there. But it’s all physical. I don’t feel bad otherwise. I don’t care about anything. I don’t feel anything.

And that makes it the perfect mindset to finish my story. To never forget.

***

We walked home arm in arm as a happy family. Our religious duties were over, the party was set to continue for the next 24 hours, and we wouldn’t get any sleep until sunrise. We passed under the trail of celebratory lanterns so bright it was as if daylight had come earlier. Mum and Morumpi kissed as we stepped onto the Lover’s Bridge and walked the whole way with their arms around each other. I admired the view of the city dominated by New Year’s lights. The perfect spot and the perfect moment to be with a loved one. I dared hope that one day I too would walk over the bridge with my arms around my lover and show them the best view of the city.

Everyone who passed by us greeted mum, asked for her blessing. They gave me and my brother advice. Our family mattered to those people, even though most of them only knew us in passing.

I met some of my friends too. We hugged, kissed, made promises to spend the first day of the year hanging out in the forest. Maybe playing with the new baby birds we discovered the week before.

'I'm more than happy to let you go, as long as you remember to spend some time with us too,' mum said, hugging me in that exaggerated way parents do when they want to embarrass their children. We all rolled our eyes.

'You can come home with us now, we'll have our family celebration , and in the afternoon you'll be free to do whatever you want with your friends." Morumpi put a hand on my shoulder and flashed a toothy grin to everyone. 'Today is a day for your loved ones after all.'

'But I love my friends too!'

'Which is why they'll be yours in the afternoon. We're going home now.' Morumpi's hand on my shoulder pushed me just slightly away from my friends. I almost didn't notice then, but now...

I understand why he wanted me home.

When we arrived, each of us went to our rooms to get the ceremonial robes off and put on proper party clothes. Sacred garments were not meant for the dance, drinking, and wild fiddle playing of our family party. Not since mum ruined hers because she couldn't be bothered to change before getting on a dance off with my father. I was still a todler then, so I don’t know the details and she would die before telling us exactly how she managed to get her clothes tangled so much they tore to shreds.

I'm sure I was distracted by dance off thoughts too when I headed to my room. Mum and my brother had gone to the living room to get him a book, and I thought Morumpi was with them. But I was five paces away from my door when his hand came over my mouth and his voice floated to my ears as a whisper.

'You're coming with me now. We have a special party to attend.'

I wanted to ask what party it could be, but no matter what I did, he wouldn't let me go.

'Stay quiet, I don't want to take you by force.'

What did he want? He made me walk away from my room, towards the living fence that marked the limits of our house. Usually the idea of a secret party would've excited me. Maybe Morumpi wanted to help me sneak off to join my friends. But if that was the case, why would he insist on covering my mouth?

Something wasn't right. This wasn't his usual way of doing things. I stopped and he bumped his body against me from behind.

'Keep going. We can't stop now.'

I didn't move. Something inside my head screamed this wasn't a surprise party of the kind I wanted to go to. I crouched and jumped forward so he would let me go. 'What are you doing?' I should've spoken louder. Should've tried to get mum's attention, even though she was at the other side of the house.

'Like I said, we have a party to go to. Just you and I.'

'But why would I want to go to that party? I don't even know where it is or who else will be there!'

I should've run when I had the chance.

'Be a good girl and come with me.'

'No. At least not until you explain what it is about.'

His answer was to tackle me into the blue rose bushes outside my bedroom walls.

***

My stomach! I have to go before you get that disgusting food all over you too!

Thanks for reading!
I’m sorry for the potential mental food-related images in this scene. Nessa's digestive troubles are because fairies can't actually digest meat. They're strictly herbivores/vegans: Fairies not supposed to harm other sentient beings, so they don’t eat anything that comes from animals.
The next scene will be the one everyone has been waiting for since this story began: Morumpi's death. 
Coming to you next Tuesday, unless you would rather find my patron page in my profile and read that scene right now.