Music and Fairies

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is the revised version of a story that I wrote years ago. It has a special place in my heart, so I am considering submitting it to lit mags. Any feedback would be appreciated!

It was the music that woke her up. Music, that lifted her from her slumbers, flowing in her ears, weaving through her bones, resonating deep in her heart. 

      Secret Solitaire opened her eyes. The melody echoed in her room. She could hear different voices, different instruments. A festival was happening, and Secret wanted to join them. 

      Pulling on her bathrobe, she opened the door and ran down the hall, down the staircase, and stopped at the bottom. It was louder this time, vibrating off the walls, pounding against her eardrums. She heard laughter and cheering. As if someone was pulling her with a string, Secret turned right and stopped again. An ethereal light peeked out underneath the closet door, dancing on the wall across it. 

     Secret turned the knob. The music became deafening; she couldn’t hear her own thoughts -but it didn’t faze her in the slightest. She stepped over the fallen brooms and ducked under the winter jackets. As if she did this plenty of times before, she kneeled in front of a small door, blended with the gray wall. Faded emerald vines and flowers were painted on the door. 

     Her hand turned the knob and started to open in… 

     “Secret?” The light flickered on. Her mother stood in the doorway, wiping sleep from her eyes. “Why are you on the floor?”

      Secret blinked. The music broke off, leaving silence in its wake.

       “I-I-er-the music… you heard it too?” she stammered. All traces of the music and the lights were gone. Her mother looked even more confused.

       “What music? I didn’t hear anything,” she said. “I came down to get water when I heard the door open.”

      “But it was so loud,” Secret murmured. “And I wanted to follow it. It was like something took ahold of me.” She tried the door, but it was locked. She frowned.

      Her mother walked in and pulled Secret to her feet. She studied her face, then smiled. 

     “I think you were sleepwalking. You always had that trouble before. And we moved into an old house. You’re bound to be jumpy. Especially with an overactive imagination.” She ruffled her hair. “Let’s get some water, then off to bed. It’s late.”

      Secret watched her mother close the closet door, wanting desperately to believe her.

***

     Secret pushed her scrambled eggs around her plate, taking slow bites. Her father sipped his coffee; her mother hadn’t arrived yet. 

     “Don’t toy with your food,” her father said, eyeing her plate. Secret rolled her eyes.

     Her mother walked into the room, gripping something Secret couldn’t see. 

    “Sorry, I’m late,” she said. She kissed Secret’s father and sat down. “Secret, I was thinking about that locked door in the closet; and I was going through the keys when I saw this.” She handed Secret a peculiar looking key. It was rusty, and the handle was shaped like a flower. One of the flowers painted on the door. Secret grinned, feeling anticipated. 

     “Thanks, Mom. I’m going to check it out,” Secret said. 

     “Not yet,” said her father. “First, we’re going into town. We’re going to start our garden today.” He smiled. 

*** 

     With her arms supporting her head, Secret laid on her bed at night. She wasn’t asleep though - she had pinched herself very hard on the arm to make sure of it. She rolled onto her right side and closed her eyes when something creaked. Secret sat up.

    Something groaned. 

    Secret got out of bed and looked down the hall. She crept to her parents’ room and quietly opened the door. Her father was snoring and her mother was reading on her kindle. Secret closed the door and walked back to her room. It was probably the cat, roaming the halls. 

    She was about to crawl into bed when she heard it. 

    The music rose and fell softly. Secret heard every chord as though someone was playing it right next to her. She knew exactly where it came from. Squaring her shoulders, she put on her bathrobe and set out. 

    Her father hadn’t ceased his snoring, and her mother’s eyes were still glued to the screen, so Secret quietly walked down the stairs. Apparently, only she could hear it. 

    Secret walked into the closet and crawled under the jackets, stopping two feet in front of the door. The music stopped, and there was silence. 

     Excitement fluttered in her stomach. Secret grasped the knob; it felt cool and smooth. Her desire to look past the door drowned the voice of caution. Secret turned the knob and opened the door. 

      The brick wall had been replaced by a forest. A luscious forest. The soft grass tickled her feet. A gentle breeze lifted her hair and soothed her face. She inhaled the scent of flowers and pine. It was nighttime, but the moon was bright enough. 

     It didn’t look like a regular forest, thought Secret, as she sidestepped a very strange looking tree. Its leaves and vines were shaped like a weeping willow, but it hung upside down instead of its usual posture. The trunk was twisted. Another tree looked like a lightbulb. 

    Secret picked up a little dandelion. She blew it, and the little seeds flew away, glowing softly like fireflies. Secret gasped.

   “I must be in another world,” she said aloud, “because seeds do not glow when the wind blows them away.” 

     A couple of birds flew overhead, casting a black shadow over the ground and making Secret trip over a stone. She landed hard. 

     Licking a cut on her right hand and rubbing her knee, she suddenly heard a rumbling sound underground, as though hundreds of little feet were running in the same direction. Secret crawled behind a tree in fright just as a hole cracked opened on a rock in the shadows of a clearing, and brilliant light blazed.

    Tiny creatures, as small as babies, with the most beautiful faces Secret had ever seen clambered from the hole and gathered in a circle. They dressed in caps and breeches, feathers, and gowns: the colors of the dust or green, white, and red. They looked angelic and light as gossamer. Singing sweetly and dropping flowers, the Small People and their children spread out. The grass and flowers lit up, and the whole place sparkled as if the stars had fallen from the sky. Secret ran her hand slowly through the softly glowing grass. Were these beings so majestic that even the earth bowed to them -if this was even Earth? 

     From the shadows, four other creatures stepped out. Secret wrinkled her nose as the moonlight hit them.

     They were quite ugly looking. With crumpled faces, wrinkled skin, and crooked skinny bodies, they stretched themselves as tall as a man to as small as a mouse. The grotesque troop muttered angrily as they joined the Small People. Little musicians followed them near the back, playing harps, flutes, and drums. They started playing music, soft music like honey spiked with sorrow. The Small People clasped hands and danced around in a circle, giggling and laughing. 

     It was so woeful; tears sprung into Secret’s eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Her lip trembled and the faeries blurred. Secret knew what they were now. Only mythical beings looked so beautiful and so ugly. Only faeries could produce such music. 

     Then it turned merry and fast. It lifted Secret’s heart and pumped her blood. Feeling braver, Secret stepped out from behind the tree and moved toward the dancers. None of them noticed her, except for one female, who gestured for Secret to sit down. After a nervous glance at the malevolent creatures, Secret hesitantly sat cross-legged on the grass. Smiling at her, the faerie walked over and waved hello. 

   Secret nervously gave her a little wave. The faerie stood next to her.

  “We are so happy you have come to see us, Secret,” said the faerie in a squeaky voice. Secret’s eyes widened.

  “H-how do you know my name?” she asked, feeling very suspicious. The faerie giggled.

  “We have been waiting for you. Haven’t you heard our music?”

  “Wait, so that music I kept hearing every night was because of you?!” The faerie nodded. 

    “That door you saw inside your closet is a Fairy Door, a gateway to our realm,” she explained. “We have seen you work hard at your chores. We saw how you have been kind to your parents and your cat. We wanted to reward you for your good behavior.”

    “Well, thank you,” said Secret, not knowing what else to say. “Um, are you all faeries?” The Faerie nodded again.

     “Even them?” Secret pointed to the tall, hideous creatures. They were directing the musicians. 

     “They are called Spriggans,” said the faerie. “They guard the fairy realm against mean-spirited people. They are tricksters, and are prone to an offense.”

     Secret shuddered and scooted back. She wanted to be as far away from the Spriggans as possible. 

    “They will not harm you,” said the faerie. “You are our guest.”

    Secret felt assured by this. “What’s your name?”

   “Our names are unpronounceable to the mortal tongue.”

     “Oh.” 

      As the music continued, a table covered with silver tablecloth appeared, laden with gold dishes that steamed with delicious food. Goblets carved from enormous rubies, diamonds, sapphires, and emeralds stood next to the dishes. Jewels fit for a queen showered onto the ground. Secret’s eyes widened. Her heart beat fast. The faeries continued dancing. The faerie Secret had talked to joined her friends, or perhaps, her kin. 

     Nobody paid any attention to the table. A gem landed on the ground a few feet from Secret. She stared at it. She glanced around. Other than the one faerie, no one looked at her. Secret started crawling toward the table, inch by inch. No one noticed. 

   Wait, stop, this isn’t right. Secret stopped and bit her lip. The faeries were doing a kind thing, letting her see them dancing and playing music. In the Irish fairy tales, this was considered a wonderful gift. But, the faerie said they liked how she helped around the house. If she took a tiny jewel, she could bring it back and sell it to help pay for college. The faeries wouldn’t mind. Her parents certainly wouldn’t mind. Secret pushed down the guilt and swiftly grabbed the coin and put it in her pocket. 

   Immediately, the table disappeared. The music screeched to a halt. The faeries stopped dancing, and all of them turned toward Secret, their eyes gleaming. Standing up, Secret trembled. 

   The faerie Secret had spoken to, stepped forward angrily.

   “That coin didn’t belong to you,” she buzzed angrily. The other faeries bristled. The Spriggans gnashed their teeth and stretched tall and small.

   “I-I’m s-sorry!” cried Secret. “I didn’t think you’d notice!”

   “She didn’t think we would notice!” shrieked another faerie, its face twisted. 

    “We would have given one of those items to you! Because you had been so good!” 

   “We do not like greedy people, Secret,” a male faerie hissed. 

    “I’m so sorry!” sobbed Secret, feeling very afraid. She backed away into the shadows. She didn’t notice the Spriggans were shadowing her movements, slinking nearer to her.

    The enchanted lights blacked out. Even the moon seemed to dim. Secret turned on her heel and stumbled quickly through the dark forest, feeling tiny hands graze her leg. The grass didn’t feel so soft, instead, it cut her feet and snagged her pants. The faeries thundered behind her, shrieking and hissing. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, but the trees looked larger and scarier; their shadows swallowed Secret. She barely saw her nose.

    Secret slammed into a tree. Red spotted her vision, and she fell. Fiery pain exploded in her head. Secret cried out and gripped her head. She twisted her body and squeezed her eyes so tightly shut purple splotches floated in the darkness. Blood pounded in her head. Dear God, make it stop! Tears streamed down her cheeks.

     When the pain subsided to a dull pounding, Secret lay there, whimpering and panting quietly, and gritted her teeth. Her tongue throbbed painfully, and she tasted blood in her mouth. 

     After about 5 minutes, Secret slowly sat up and pressed a hand to her head. She felt a painful bump, but thankfully, no blood. The forest was silent again; her breaths were the only thing she heard. For one moment, Secret thought her pursuers lost interest. She was so vulnerable that moment; surely they would’ve swooped upon her by then. The moon shone brightly, and as she looked around the area bathed with the moonlight, she saw nor heard any faeries.

    Feeling very relieved, Secret wiped the tears away, thoroughly annoyed with herself. “It was only a little pain,” she thought crossly before a dizzy spell hit her. “You’ve wasted enough time as it is. They could be coming closer and closer… if they’re not already here.”

    A twig snapped behind her. Fear rising in her heart, Secret whirled around so fast she cricked her neck, but it was only a squirrel. It watched her quietly, tail twitching. It climbed up a tree. 

    “Don’t be silly, Secret,” she reprimanded herself, standing up and looking around. “The only things near you are animals.” She hoped. Secret dusted herself off and spotted something familiar. The lightbulb shaped tree stood 10 feet to her left. Smiling brightly, Secret walked to it as fast as her head would allow her. This was the way back to the door, she knew it. Sure enough, 30 feet away, she spotted the upside-down weeping willow tree. Laughing with relief, Secret started walking to it. 

    She put her hands in her pocket and felt something round and smooth. Still walking, she fished out the gold coin she had stolen from the faeries. Guilt festered in her stomach. It was her fault the faeries hated her. Her and her stupid greediness. 

    Secret turned around and held up the coin over her head: “Here’s your coin!” she shouted, hoping they were listening. “I’m sorry for stealing it. I’m sorry for breaking your trust.”

   She gently set the coin on the grass and continued walking toward the tree, not daring to look back. 

   The air cooled. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Secret stopped laughing instantly and shivered. Goosebumps prickled her arms. Licking her dry lips, Secret sped up. The wind whistled, but when Secret strained her ears, she realized that wasn’t the wind at all. It was buzzing, angry buzzing, as if someone had disturbed a beehive. Secret’s heart somersaulted, and her throat went dry.

    Faeries.

    Hundreds of thin ropes rushed through the air, pinning Secret to the ground. Invisible hands tightened the ropes, binding her arms and her legs together. Secret screamed as she writhed and tried to free herself, but her captors were too strong. Invisible people giggled at her futile attempts. 

   The Spriggans danced mockingly around her. They pinched her, stomped on her face, kicked her in the ribs, rocked back and forth with cold, high-pitched laughter. They pulled her hair. The ropes cut into her skin, and her blood dyed the silver ropes red. 

    Secret sobbed. Her head started pounding again, but the Spriggans were relentless. She wanted it to be over. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. 

    Suddenly a great shout of alarm stopped the Spriggans from their merciless torture. The stars were disappearing, and red, orange, and pink colored the sky. A bright light seeped into the forest. 

    The faeries all vanished. Secret lifted her head. The ropes fell away and she felt the blood rush back to her arms. She gave a watery smile to the sun, which was steadily rising. She closed her eyes---

---And woke up in her bed. The sun was shining brightly. She lay on her bed, in her room, feeling very sore and sick with shame.