The Elf Girl (2 page)

It wasn’t as if Dina was my parents’ favorite child. I was sure that if I wanted all the stuff she had, I would get it. However, what Dina had was simply not my taste.

“Goodnight, girls,” Mom called to us from the hall.

“Goodnight, Mom,” I replied, the first to respond. I guessed Dina was texting on her phone…again.

“Goodnight, Mom!” Dina called, and I heard the beep of the OFF button on her cell phone.

Nights were always the worst for me. Sleep rarely came until the wee hours, when the rest of my family was sound asleep. I couldn’t seem to make myself sleep for very long. I was awake until midnight and up at around four o’clock the next morning, without feeling one ounce of drowsiness.

Usually, I snuck out and went for nighttime walks, but tonight rain was quickly developing into a storm. It wasn’t as if I disliked the rain; I just didn’t want my clothes getting wet. It was too risky to leave wet clothes in the hamper because my parents could figure out I snuck out of the house.

I decided to read instead. An activity that was both quiet and productive. Staying up twiddling my thumbs wouldn’t be the best use of my spare time. I quietly slipped out from beneath my covers and lightly tiptoed across the wooden floor to the shelf. Another reason I loved my room was that the floorboards never squeaked.

I scanned the shelf for something I hadn’t read, but found nothing. I remembered the last time I went to the bookstore. Two weeks ago, I had bought three books, and as usual, I read them right away. I had planned to go today but had totally forgotten. I looked at the clock on my dresser. It read ten p.m. The bookstore closed at eleven.

Guess I’m going outside after all
, I decided. I had nothing else to do, considering sleep was out of the question for at least a few more hours. I quickly threw on jeans and a large hooded sweatshirt over my pajama top, put on some tennis shoes, grabbed my phone and wallet, and headed down the stairs. I would just have to do my own laundry before anyone could notice how wet my clothes were.

Remembering I had to lock the door, I picked up the key in the basket and stuffed it into the large pocket of my sweatshirt with my phone and wallet. The door opened easily and noiselessly. I never had trouble leaving the house.

The bookstore was only three blocks from our subdivision,
Forest Grove.
The area held all two-story homes with perfectly groomed lawns the size of swimming pools. I was surprised some of the homes could even fit pools into their property. What I liked about it was the forest that surrounded us. Its tall trees and small ponds here and there made it the perfect place to spend my time.

Luckily, sidewalks led the way to the bookstore. To have a car hit me would definitely not be good. I almost ran the three blocks to the store. I loved the night, but the anticipation of being able to read was too great to walk, and I didn’t want to be drenched when I walked through the entrance of the store.

I felt bad about sneaking out; I always did. However, tonight it was worse considering I had gone to church earlier. Sneaking out of the house wasn’t exactly a Christian thing to do.

The silver cross that dangled from my neck bounced slightly as my hurried pace took me to the bookstore. The cross was a birthday gift from my parents, and I hardly ever took it off. It felt comfortable to wear on a daily basis. When I forgot, I felt empty.

Clutching the cross, I sent a silent prayer to God, asking for some forgiveness and understanding for leaving the house.

***

When I finally arrived at the bookstore, it was ten fifteen. I didn’t worry about anyone seeing me there so late. I was a regular.

I headed straight to the teen fiction section. The object of my desire was fantasy. I had always loved the genre because it was easy to let the books take me to another world, a world where I wasn’t a freak. I was just the reader watching the story unfold.

My favorite books were about fairies, and the ones that told of a Realm far away from our own world. The Realms contained beauty, wonder, magic, and mystery. Those tales intrigued me. I had loved fairies since my earliest childhood. When Dina and I were younger, my mother would tell us stories of fairies who sang in the forests. She would also say if anything was ever missing, the fairies took it. It was up to them whether they would return it or not. Mom taught Dina and me to thank the fairies every time we found something we thought we had lost.

As the years went by, my passion for fantasy grew, while Dina’s dwindled. None of her friends believed, so her interests changed to boys and T.V. I kept my fascination, and I wasn’t ashamed, no matter how childish it sounded. My belief in fairies had never left me, though deep down, I knew it was not likely they really existed. Even so, I liked the mystery and magic of believing in something I couldn’t see.

It was easy to find something to read after scanning the shelves for a few moments; the store always came through for me. I soon had two books in my hands, just enough to get me through the week. Final exams at school were starting, so I wouldn’t have much time to read between studying.

On the way to the checkout counter, a large, leather-bound book caught my eye. I was a sucker for antiques, so I stopped and touched my fingertips to the soft, worn cover, tracing the words thoughtfully. The book was brown, with green swirls making a border around the front and title. The title read,
The Mysterious Guide to Fantasy
. I had read other guides to mystical beings; usually, they were filled with random childish fluff that didn’t make any sense. I always looked for books that made me think, and most importantly, transported me from the struggle of everyday life and allowed me to dream of something different.

For some reason, this book intrigued me. I knew I had to buy it the moment I saw it. Something about the book
drew
me to it. I had no idea what the reason could be, other than that it was so eye-catching, but I didn’t think about it for very long. Always trying to be the smart shopper, I looked at the back for the price. I gasped. $42.50!
No way!

This book had better be good,
was all I could think. On impulse, I grabbed the book and almost ran to the checkout before I could change my mind.

When I said I was a regular, I meant it. I knew practically every inch of the store and every employee. Therefore, I was a little shocked when I saw who was behind the counter. I had never seen her at the store before, and she didn’t look like the kind of girl who would even work at a bookstore.

The girl was strikingly beautiful with skin as pale as mine. Her white-blonde hair ran thinly down to her waist, and her forest green eyes flickered with surprise when she saw me. I almost dropped the books I was holding. This girl was almost my reflection. Not exactly looking into a mirror, but it was very close. She was taller than I was, and her eyes were not the same shade of green, but it still shook me. I had never seen anyone who looked so much like me before.

“Did you find everything all right?” she asked.

As I was groping for words, my mind suddenly clouded and unclear, I quickly nodded my head. I curiously looked at her nametag to see if maybe I had seen her before.
Addison
. The name wasn’t familiar to me, so I decided she was probably a new employee.

She started scanning the books. When she got to the crazily expensive one, her eyes widened, and for a second they seemed to shine brighter than before. She met my gaze as if she was trying to communicate some unspoken message, but I didn’t understand what it was. This night had started to get weird, even for me, the poster child for strange.

“Interesting choice,” Addison remarked, holding up the book.

“Oh, I, uh, it just popped out at me,” I stammered.

I couldn’t believe how stupid I was acting, and it must have been obvious to her how much of an effect seeing her was having on me.
How embarrassing.

“It’s a good read.”

“You’ve read it?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s nicely written. Everything in it is true….Well,
almost
everything.”

Did she just say almost everything in a
fantasy
book was true? Noticing the confused look on my face, she quickly averted my gaze and looked down at the counter. I could tell she was feeling self-conscious.
Poor girl
, I thought.

“I hope it’s good,” I said, trying to change the subject. “This is probably the most expensive book I’ve ever bought.”

“The total comes to $62.35. How long have you been interested in fantasy?” she asked. Apparently, she still wanted to chat.

I handed her my debit card. “Forever, I guess. I’ve never thought about it. It’s just always been my go-to genre. Plus, it has everything you would want in a book: adventure, mystery, romance, and sometimes even a little bit of comic relief.”

“Interesting…,” Addison mumbled.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Enjoy your reading,” she said.

She waited for me to depart. I grabbed my bag and headed for the exit, but paused at the door. “Are you new here? I’m kind of a regular, and I’ve never seen you before.”

Addison looked over and grinned. “You are very observant.”

It was all she would say.

I sighed and left. The girl had acted a bit odd, and thinking of her appearance still unsettled me. However, there was no use in spending the whole night talking to strangers. I couldn’t rely on the hope that my parents would never wake up and notice my absence. I checked my cell phone; the time was eleven fifteen. The store closed at eleven.

Why hadn’t Addison told me to hurry up and go?

***

As I walked home from the bookstore – the now heavy rain pouring over my hood and soaking my clothes – I couldn’t get my mind off the checkout girl, Addison. Something about meeting her had really gotten to me, and I couldn’t think of what it was.

Lost in thought, it took me a long time to react to the long tendril of water, like a snake, that shot out from under the railing of the bridge I was crossing. It wrapped itself around my ankle. With a jolt, it pulled me to the wooden surface, my head smacking against the planks, my palms and knees scraping along the rough wood. My bag of books hit the floor and slid out of my grasp. Crying out, I struggled to get up, but the water was stronger than I could imagine.

I couldn’t make sense of what was happening, and I didn’t really try. The water wrapped around my ankle was icy and cold, and strong enough to pull me right off the bridge. Paralyzed with fear, I couldn’t even utter a sound, let alone scream, as I fell. The rain was still pouring, the wind whipping at my face, my heart thumping violently in my chest.
Oh God, oh God, please don’t let me die
, I prayed.

I hit the water. The force sent a wave of shock and electrifying pain through me, and for a moment, I could do nothing but take in the incredible agony. The freezing water caused my joints to stiffen. I could barely move.

Then my mind began to focus. I had to fight. I had to get out of here. Thrashing wildly to get to the surface, I struggled to hold my breath and stay alive. My whole body felt weighted down; I couldn’t break the surface of the water. The coil of water was still around my ankle, pulling me into the depths of the small lake. Swallowing water, I coughed and spurted until my breath gave out. I was drowning, unable to understand how this could be happening.

I gasped as I swallowed more water; my throat was burning fiercely. Even if I could reach the surface, I wouldn’t be able to scream. I knew no sound would come. What would I be able to do then anyway? Swim to shore? What shore? I didn’t know where I was, and even if I
was
near a shore, I wasn’t sure I had enough will power to swim.

My feet suddenly touched a smooth dirt surface. My first thought was that I had finally landed at the bottom of the lake. But then I realized I was being lifted. I hadn’t reached the bottom. A layer of earth had suddenly appeared under my feet, lifting me up toward the surface. I didn’t know how to explain what was happening, but I was grateful.

As I began to lose consciousness, I thought about how warm the earthy mud felt between my toes….

***

As I came to, my mind was crowded with thoughts of water and dirt, lots of dirt. I felt covered in it, soaking wet with mud. Every limb felt heavy and sore. My throat was dry and scratchy. My eyes stung. I wanted to open them to see where I was, but I was afraid the action would bring more pain.

It wasn’t easy to do – what with the burning sensation in my throat – but I was able to breathe. I was alive. Where was I? What had happened to me?

I decided to take the risk and open my eyes. I was back on the bridge, lying on my back in the middle of the road. It was late, but there was still the chance someone could be driving home.

But I couldn’t get up. There was no way. I was tired, terribly cold, and defeated. The dirt beneath me was warm, but the gusts of wind chilled the rest of me to the bone. I was shivering and my teeth were chattering. This was the only sound I heard besides my ragged breathing… nothing else.

Not knowing what to do, or even how to begin to move any farther, I closed my eyes and waited. I didn’t know what I was waiting for, but there was nothing else I could do.

I simply waited.

***

The water came back. The tendril once again coiled around my ankle. It was happening again. Feeling completely overwhelmed, this time I didn’t even struggle. I didn’t fight. I let the water take me. I had nothing left to give. I had nothing left to do. I lay there as the water dragged me nearer and nearer, closer and closer, to the edge of the bridge – massive déjà vu.

“No!” I heard someone shout.

The voice was deep, but I didn’t see anyone. I didn’t care. I was about to drown anyway. It didn’t matter. I had already given up.