The Art of Burning Fairies

I stepped out onto the stone patio allowing the crisp autumn wind to stroke its icy fingers through my hair. The air was cool, and carried the scent of oncoming snow and burning wood. I inhaled deeply, allowing the scent to fill my lungs before releasing it slowly. It made my throat sting, and yet the sensation was enthralling. I felt as though I had been sleeping all twelve years of my life and in this very moment I was born. I smiled and made my way down the steps.

Leaves crunched loudly beneath my sneakers and I made my way to the side of the wooden house, humming as I walked. And why shouldn’t I? Today was a pleasant day to sing. A pleasant day indeed. A bright Saturday morning, no school, no people to bother with…

I was feeling absolutely euphoric.

The side porch was wooden and old with the beginnings of some sort of crusty mold formation. Hanging spider webs dangled from the steps containing small wriggling insects that squirmed for dear life. How did they feel knowing that at any moment the owner of their trap could come back to saturate their bodies of all the blood they possessed? I laughed while I picked up a rock. They had no feelings. They were God’s insignificant screw ups, objects created for my enjoyment. Why should the spiders have all the fun?

With one swift stroke, the insect crunched beneath my hand. I figure, what the hell? It was going to die anyway. For Christ’s sake, it was basically lying on its grave. If anything, I saved the poor thing from future suffering.

God, I’m such a good person.

I snapped back to reality; the real reason I had come here. My hand slid between two long boards of wood feeling for the thing I had been there to retrieve. My fingers grazed over a small wire box. I could feel that between some of the metal wiring, dirt had gotten stuck. If anything, it was the mud that had fallen from people’s stomping shoes on the porch above it. Yes. It was exactly in the spot where I had left it a week before. I grinned slightly evilly.

I clung to the wooden handle, and pulled my arm out from beneath the porch steps, to examine its contents. She was still there and so was the crust of bread I had left her with. Her long dark hair hung over her face like a curtain and she was curled into a little ball with her head tucked into her knees trembling from the cold. I gently tapped the side of the box to get her attention. No response.

“Tit!” I said the name loudly enough to wake up any human being – or fairy.

I giggled quietly. Even though she had been my prisoner for over five months, the name never grew less funny. I mean come on. Only a genius like me could come up with an amazing fairy name such as Tit. Despite the fact that my voice was practically in her ear, she remained idle, refusing to move from her position. I shook the box twice. Hard.

A soft clunk vibrated through the metal wires of the box as her head banged against the roof of her cage. Startled, she clasped her head and let out a soft, pained ringing noise. Damn fairies. They can’t talk. They can only make annoying ringing sounds. It makes me wonder why God brought them to this planet in the first place. They’re fucking useless. Sitting around in flowers all day, riding butterflies, making stupid ringing noises…god, it makes me sick to think about. I almost envy other people. For all I know, I’m the only one who knows of their pitiful existence. If only I hadn’t decided to take a nighttime stroll one day, I would never have found Tit or her lover. Maybe then I would be able to sleep at night thinking that fairy filth doesn’t roam the earth while I sleep.

Tit stood up and faced me from the side of the box, her purple lips chattering from seven freezing nights of October. Her eyes were a dark blue, though the heavy bags beneath her eyelids clearly showed she hadn’t slept in days. Her pale skin was covered in a layer of dust and her once white gown was ripped and muddied from months of overuse. Considering her state, she was actually very beautiful.

“It’s been a week my dear Tit. Glad to see you didn’t die out here”

I laughed obnoxiously. Of course she didn’t die. The only way to cause significant damage or even possibly eliminate a fairy is to set them on fire. Trust me. I went all pyromaniac on her boyfriend’s leg. Too bad it wasn’t his wings. Maybe then he wouldn’t have managed to escape…

Her eyes were glazed over as she stared through me. I continued my mini lecture.

“Now what have we learned from this experience Tit?”

She let out a small ringing noise, clearly trying to communicate although unable to. I shook the box vigorously for I knew that no matter what I did, she would not die unless it included fire. I began to shout angrily.

“No you fucking cunt! We didn’t learn retard language! Make another goddamn ringing sound and I’ll burn off your other wing!”

She was breathing heavily, curled up into fetal position clutching her head in her goose bump infested arms. A tear dripped from the bottom of the cage onto my finger. Disgusted I wiped my hand on my jeans. Gross…fairy tears; good for nothing but growing goddamned flowers.

“Get. Up.” I said it sternly with threat seeping through both words.

Hesitantly, she brought her arms down and forced herself to stand on shaky legs. Her tear stained cheeks sparkled and her hate-filled eyes stared at me straight in the face.

“I’ll try this again. What did we learn?”

She stood there without making a sound, fearful of what I might do if she did. I laughed again. See? Today was a good day. Any day that includes me laughing at my own jokes more than twice is a good one.

“Exactly. We learned that attempts to run away will only result in unnecessary suffering.”

With that, I hid the box beneath my overly large sweatshirt and headed back around the house.

A wave of heat blanketed my frozen face as I stepped through the door into the living room. The most amazing smell I had ever encountered, wafted up into my nose, stopping me in my tracks to my bedroom. I spun around and headed into the kitchen, one arm placed carefully over my stomach to hide the unusual bulge sticking out. The last thing I needed was my mom to know about Tit’s existence.

The cookies were still in the oven and my mom was in the living room taking a nap. I coughed loudly to see if she would stir. Nothing.

Quietly I opened the door to the oven and with my free hand, pulled out a large tray of half baked cookies. Boy did I get lucky. A whole tray of scorching hot cookie dough, and no mother awake to guard it. With my mouth, I picked up a spoon that had been left out on the table for tonight’s dinner and headed down the hallway to my room.

I placed Tit on my desk and sat down in my wheelie spider-man chair that I had gotten the past Christmas. The steaming cookie dough was calling to me, begging me to eat everything all at once with no hesitations. My spoon was ready, my stomach was screaming, and my mouth was practically drooling.

If heaven had a taste, it would taste something like half baked chocolate chip cookies. Each spoonful that entered my mouth seemed to pass in milliseconds. One minute I was sitting in front of a good for nothing fairy, stuffing myself with a full trey of dough, and the next minute I had one spoonful left. Fairy. For the past five minutes of eating I had completely forgot about my unfortunate prisoner. I looked up to see what she was doing.

She stood at the front of her cage eyeing the last spoonful of cookie dough. Of course she was hungry. I had left her outside for a week with nothing to eat but a small piece of pizza crust.

When she noticed me looking at her she immediately took a few steps and threw her head down. I picked up the last spoonful. It was still hot enough to burn a person’s mouth, but not hot like a flame. I glanced at Tit in wonder.

I opened the cage, attaching a thin shackle to her ankle that connected to the side of my desk. Her eyes brightened with the slightest bit of hope. And I couldn’t help but feel a wave of amusement inside. Did she honestly think I was going to let her eat it?

With a deep amount of curiosity, and a hint of masochism, I slammed her face into the steaming dough. Immediately, a piercing ring followed. And I don’t know why, but I was unable to stifle my apparent satisfaction. This was absolutely hilarious! Her one existing wing fluttered frantically in awkward spasms causing her to hop on her left foot. She thrashed her arms and legs in every possible direction screeching with all intensity possible. The sight would be impossible to describe. Basically it looked as though a mentally retarded gorilla was attempting (and failing) at some old native tribal dance.

Eventually the dance grew old, and the screeching became unbearable to listen to. I reached out my finger to help remove the remaining globs of now cool cookie dough. In return, a painful shock ran through my hand. For the split second my arm was outstretched, I could feel her tiny teeth sink into the soft flesh on my finger. The bitch had fucking bit me. After sparing her life for so long, was this the thanks I deserved?

With each drop of blood that trickled onto my wooden desk my anger grew, and she could tell. The shrieking and awkward frenzy had ceased, and she was now on her knees trembling at the far side of the desk. Had it not been for the chain strapped around her ankle, she would be much farther.

My finger throbbed and swelled within the following twenty seconds as I stared in utter shock. This ungrateful bitch was dead. Nobody bites me and doesn’t pay. Especially good-for-nothing fairies! Had I not been merciful in my studies and practices? Had I not fed her and allowed her to live? If my heart had not been as kind and gentle as it was, she would have been dead the day I found her!

My shaking hand reached into the top drawer of my desk and pulled out a pen. I had had enough of this bullshit. Fairies just didn’t exist and they never would! I laughed manically with a crazed look in my eyes. I could feel heat rising up into my face as my palpitating heart thumped furiously. Adrenaline was pumping through every vein in my body. After today fairies never existed. I was going to put an end to this once and for all!

I raised my arm above my head, pen in hand. Tit was trembling furiously with tears streaming down her perfectly formed cheekbones. She knew that she was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it. For some sick reason, I felt no pity. Call me mad, but knowing this only fueled my burning desire to end her life. My laugh grew wickedly louder as the point of the pen slammed down into her small, fragile body. A single loud scream, worse than I had ever heard before escaped her pale, red lips. I almost was forced to throw the pen down and cover my ears. Of course, the screaming just made me even angrier.

Again I slammed the pen into her stomach. And again. And several times after that. Her blood was trickling in tiny streams off the desktop, staining my white carpet a dark purple. It was splattered over my face and even managed to stain the wall. The screaming had stopped after the first shriek and so had the struggling. Finally when I brought the pen down onto her body for what seemed like the hundredth time, it snapped in half.

My exhausted hand dropped the broken pen onto the floor which landed with a soft thud. I sat back down into my Spiderman chair, slightly confused as to why my mother hadn’t awoken due to the deafening raucous. I took a deep breath and cracked my knuckles. I was calm and satisfied. In fact, I don’t think I had ever felt better in my entire life.

I looked at the top of my desk to inspect the damage. Tit was lying on her back in a pool of blood and ink. Her dark hair was soaked and matted to her thin shoulders. There was a large gash in her stomach where she had been repeatedly stabbed and her glazed eyes stared off into another world, no longer fully conscious. In slow deep breaths her chest rose and fell. No she was not dead. Yet.

I reached into my pants pocket and removed a lighter that I had carefully stolen from my mother’s purse. The time was now to complete my mission. Now was my chance to prove to God that I was his messenger; his miracle worker dedicated to removing the scum off his obviously flawed creation of earth. One less fairy was one step closer to the perfect world.

With an old notebook, I managed to scoop the body onto a metal trey and with a flick of my thumb, a small flame danced before my eyes. Like a magnet, it drew my hand over to her breathing, yet disfigured body. She was motionless except for her left hand that slightly quivered every few seconds. This was the deed I was born for, I could feel it in my veins. Too bad that she would be dead before learning her lesson.

Like a shriveled old leaf, she caught fire quickly. At first it was indeed a sight to behold. Deep violet sparks danced above the slowly burning corpse and I watched intently as her skin melted to bone. I was greatly amused.

But then I began to feel light headed. It was as if in a single instant I had come across some ill purposed disease. I felt dizzy and nauseous as though I could pass out at any moment. I rose from my chair and staggered to the floor. There were lights. Many different lights of magnificent colors. Everywhere. I was no longer seeing anything but the abundance of tiny colorful specs that flew around me. What was happening to me? I was stuck panting on all fours for my head became too heavy for my neck to bear.

Suddenly the colors faded and all I saw was black. I saw nothing, but the dizziness was now replaced with the most terrible burning sensation I had ever thought possible. My skin burned and I couldn’t breathe. Smoke was filling up in my lungs as I coughed in desperate attempt for air. I could smell my skin melting and my bones charring to ash. My arms waved frantically; searching for any sort of aid I could find.

I was growing weaker, but the torture never seemed to end. I did not understand what possibly could have been happening to me. Maybe I caught some screwed up fairy disease. Yes. That’s it! I told myself that what seemed like millions of times in order to hold on for a bit longer. But how could I keep fighting? I felt so weak…

In the next instant I was able to see again. There was fire everywhere. Naturally, I panicked, although to no prevail. I was on my back and when I tried to sit up an even greater pain erupted from my stomach. I screamed as loud as my voice could go. But the noise I expected did not emerge from my mouth.

Instead, I screeched a loud ringing noise. It was the worst thing I had ever heard. I began to panic more frantically. I turned my head to my side. Long dark hair that was quickly being eaten up by the flames rested on my shoulders and the bones that were once covered with skin on my arm lay in a puddle of blood.

I was stuck in Tit’s body and she was in mine. I was the one dying. Not her.

I glanced over to where I was sitting only moments ago and my body’s mouth curled into a delighted smile when our eyes met. She stared at me excitedly through my own eyes; neither angry nor revengeful, just happy. She raised my arm and waved slowly as though bidding me a farewell. And as she continued to wave back and forth, the pain finally stopped and my vision blurred. Fairies no longer existed, and therefore my work was complete. With one more satisfied grin, my vision turned to black and eyes closed forever.