Enjoy, and I look forward to your harsh tearing-apart of my story. Okay, I lied, I'm not looking forward to it, exactly, but... you know what I mean.
~MademoiselleKool
A glittering of dust. A flash of glitter in the pale moonlight. The small painted face peered out of the closed-up, cold flowers littering the fairy ring. The child squalled.
"Be silent, child." The light whisper cut through the silvery moonlight. "The world will hear you calling. But they cannot save you. No human ever cares about a changeling child like you. They won't notice if I leave you a little gift."
Another dusting of sparkles. The sobbing of the child increased as pain speared the tiny form. Cracks appeared along the tender skin and the glitter sank in, mingling with the blood, sizzling wildly, then disappearing.
"Now be silent."
The child was silent.
*
Aimless, wandering, she flits from dirty sidewalk to cobbled street, bare feet shivering away from the cold ground until it looks like she's dancing on the air. Tangled curls hang limp against her shivering shoulder blades. Large, dark, waif-like eyes dart from side to side, waiting for something, anything to give her life purpose.
"Didi!" A call pierces through the misty grey air and she tilts her head to the side, long, dancing strides slowing.
"Didi, stop running this minute, you horrible child." The panting squeal comes from behind her and she stops immediately in her tracks, frozen in the street.
"What were you thinking, you horrible child?" A strong hand grabs her arm with a bruising grip. "You'll never get on the train this way. You'll never be off our hands." The last sentence is muttered, but Didi hears. She follows the woman, still vaguely discontented. There is still no direction, no meaning for existence. There was one brief moment of ecstasy, but it had vanished as quickly as it had arrived. Didi needs more, she craves it. It is a constant search.
They arrive at the station. Didi is released and she stands, staring into the broad, florid face of her captor. Didi knows that as soon as she is released in the train, she will be off again, her feet carrying her against her will in the urgent search. This need had always filled her, but only lately had it begun to consume.
"Now, you horrible child, you must be good and don't give the conductor no sass."
Another brief flash of ecstasy - but it only leaves Didi wanting more.
"I'm going off to get your tickets and secure your luggage." Florid-Face - Didi can't even remember her name now - takes Didi's hand and leads her firmly to the stone seat. "You'd think, a big girl like you would be able to take care of herself, but you... you're just a... a horrible child." The muttering is unpleasant, but nothing to this consuming need inside Didi's soul.
Florid-Face looms closer, broad shoulders braced and breasts hanging down, almost suffocating Didi.
"Now listen to me, you horrible child. You sit here as still as stone and don't you move a muscle until I or your uncle come back for you." Florid-Face pauses for emphasis, then jabs one finger into Didi's pale forehead. "Be a statue, you horrible child. Be a statue."
Didi's being is consumed with the opening, the flowering of her soul. Florid-Face wanders off, and Didi doesn't notice. Fulfillment at last. Her muscles harden and a grey cast slowly comes over her skin. Her face tilts towards the misting sky, her hands rest delicately on the bench on either side of her body. Her ragged skirt solidifies around her body and no longer flutters in the soft breeze. Her eyes lose their joyful sparkle, her lips are caught forever in their frozen smile. Her small, pale toes twitch one last time, and then the same grey cast comes over them.
Didi is a statue.
*
"Hey, look!" The girl will come around the corner, tugging the sweaty hand of her shy friend. He will follow her, as he would follow her anywhere, and they will stand together in front of the statue.
The girl will reach forward a curious hand to brush it across the round cheek of the pale grey statue.
"She looks so happy." Wonder will fill the girls' voice as she speaks.
The boy won't care. He'll be wishing he could kiss her. Seized by a sudden fit of providential courage, he'll step forward.
"Would you like to... to come to the dance with me, Anita?" His voice will crack, embarrassing him. He'll flush red and step away.
Anita will laugh scornfully. "When I go to the dance with you is when this stone girl comes to life."
He will turn to the statue desperately. Nothing will compare to the way he'll want her. He'll lean forward, touching the frail stone shoulder, and his eyes will soften. His desperation will come to his soft brown eyes and he'll stare directly into the uplifted, weathered eyes of the statue girl.
"Come to life, statue. Please, for me, come to life." His voice will crack again as he repeats the mantra, over and over. "Come to life so Anita will be mine. Please, statue." He'll be crazy and wild, and Anita will start to back away.
Then they'll both stop and stare in consternation. A change will come over those stone grey features. They will soften, and turn pink, and the eyes will come back, rolling in their sockets towards the sky, sparkling in pleasure and joy. A new command, after so long. The statue girl will have been waiting for so long.
Anita and the boy will run away - their hearts will be lost when the girl's hard skirt begins to sway in the sudden breeze. She won't notice, though. She'll be rising to her feet, stretching her long-dormant limbs. A restless urge will fill her feet. They will dance on the cobblestones, carrying her down the road towards the train station. Long ago requests will demand to be carried out, long ago questions will demand answers.
Didi will live again.
