The Whispers of the Sprite

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  I blank rapidly trying to stop my racing heart. He thinks that I am stupid; I have never heard about changelings, this sounds so cruel.

  ‘Are you going to sit down so I can tell you more about me, rather than changelings? I think I brought that subject up too early,’ he says in husky voice. I hesitate, but sit down feeling that our connection is stronger than I originally though. I’ve got so many questions but I don’t know what I should ask him first. He appears to be confident he knows it all.

  ‘No, tell me more about changelings. I need to know,’ I press.

  ‘I don’t want to discuss this now,’ he cuts in and I think he is angry. I never expected him to be so touchy about this subject.

  ‘Well then, let’s talk about something else,’ I say coldly. ‘For example where do you live?’

  ‘Near the beach in Three Cliffs Bay, our homes aren’t visible for humans, we tend to stay closer to the coastline, but others normally live in the middle of nowhere. Before your ability developed I have been around you often.’

  ‘What about your father? Is he involved with the Council as well?’

  ‘No,’ he responds, ‘My father isn’t too keen on council rules, we have similar values, and although my mother is tied to the Council, my father doesn’t think that everything they do is necessary.’

  ‘For example?’

  ‘Well I need at least a few hours to talk about it, which unfortunately I don’t have.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘There will be another time,’ he hisses, leaning slightly closer and an electric current shoots through me again. ‘Goodbye.’

  Then he is gone; yet again he didn’t explain everything, just leaving me with questions. Maybe partly it’s my fault because I tend to ask a lot of questions and haven’t got my patience. I need to stop thinking about how I am reacting every time he is close to me.

  To distract myself from my confusing feelings I switch on my laptop and start searching for the term ‘changeling’. Surprisingly, I find a lot of articles about the myth. The stories go back as early as the fifteenth century. I stay up for a few hours, reading about this fascinating history. So he was right; we always believed that fairies were stealing our children, but no one was ever able to see them. Gabriel said that it doesn’t happen anymore. He said that this practice has been stopped. I should ask him why, but we didn’t get into that. I fall asleep thinking about his blue eyes wondering why I am the only one that can see them. I need to find out about the past; there was someone else that had similar gift to mine.

  The next few days pass quickly, but I still have Gabriel in my mind; George keeps calling, surprisingly making an effort. He promises to visit me sometime soon, but he isn’t specific, as usual.

  Since I left London my life has been transformed. Unexpectedly, my phone is silent for a few days. Mum stopped calling me and I am not sure what is happening to her. Finally, on Sunday evening, I manage to get hold of her, and after nagging questions she reveals that she had a date. However, this is the only information that I am able to get out of her. I can hear in her voice that she is embarrassed and isn’t comfortable talking about this with me. I hang up the phone, feeling happy that she is finally getting on with her life. Mum is in her mid-forties and spends far too much of her time concentrating on me; I hope that this will bring more and more opportunities for her to find someone else close to her heart.

  A few days after the conversation with Mum and an interesting time with Gabriel, I open the front door, wondering who is knocking at our student pad so late on this gloomy Friday evening.

  ‘Hello Ania,’ says George, standing outside smiling widely. I stare at him, unable to say anything, frozen. George hands me the flowers and kisses me unexpectedly. The kiss is surprising, and I expect a burst of the usual emotions to arise; instead I feel nothing.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I ask, confused and worried, still standing in the doorway.

  ‘I told you that I would come to see you. I missed you,’ he explains, stepping inside.

  Reluctantly, I let him in. I close the door, feeling defeated as he makes himself comfortable on the sofa in the living room. Michael and Carl are in the kitchen, cooking supper. He looks good, his blond hair is styled and he is wearing a dark blazer with designer jeans. Normally, under these circumstances I would be happy to see him, but his visit is so unpredictable that I am more worried than excited.

  ‘Hey guys. This is George, a friend,’ I say, looking at Mike and Carl, who are busy debating on the choice of ingredients that they should add to their curry.

  ‘I hate to correct you darling but I am your boyfriend,’ says George, smiling. Mike and Carl are staring at me, uncertain. ‘Nice to meet you guys.’

  My housemates acknowledge his greeting with a nod and get back to their exotic dish. I am just about to take George upstairs to my room to find out what exactly he is doing in my house, when Amy walks in, looking all dressed-up and glamorous. She added long blonde extensions to her hair; she has a black maxi dress on and hasn’t overdone it with the makeup tonight.

  ‘Ania, are you ready?’ she asks, not noticing George, who is talking to Carl and Michael in the kitchen.

  ‘Ready?’ I ask blankly.

  ‘Don’t tell me that you forgot about tonight’s party?’

  ‘Party?’ George interrupts while walking back into the living room. I sigh, trying to take a deep breath.

  ‘Oh Amy, this is George, my friend from London,’ I say, stepping forward and smiling. I have mentioned George to Amy, but it was a very brief description, intently avoiding the complicated relationship part.

  ‘I have to correct her all the time. I am her boyfriend,’ adds George and winks at Amy, who starts laughing. I roll my eyes and I think I have already lost the battle with George with regards to the status of our relationship.

  ‘Umm…’ This is the only coherent sound that I am able to make.

  ‘So are you guys coming to the party?’ asks Amy.

  ‘No, I don’t think –’

  ‘Of course we are. Ania will go upstairs to change and get ready. So what kind of party is it?’

  I leave them discussing details about the wild student party. I walk to my room, feeling overwhelmed and angry with myself. I invited him, but I didn't expect him to show up so quickly. George is behaving strangely. I am not in the mood to go out, and I especially don't want to go out with George and Amy at the same time. At this point, I don't have any choice so I put on my best dress and make my way back downstairs. When I join them, George and Amy are still engaged in a conversation about the nightclubs in London. Michael and Carl are sitting opposite, looking annoyed as they are trying to watch a football match on the TV. I give them an apologetic look and put a smile on my face.

  When we finally leave the house, Amy is talking about how much she enjoyed herself at the last party she went to; George takes my hand and looks as if he is actively listening to my housemate. I am feeling uncertain about this whole evening; we have a problematic history and I am the only one who always ends up crying because of him. There have been many situations when we went out together and by the end of the night, I had to get home by myself because my ‘boyfriend’ disappeared unexpectedly. I am not sure what’s changed tonight; George is charming and caring and has brought flowers. I feel on alert and suspicious.

  It is dark when we leave the house and it is raining, we decide to take a taxi. The house party is somewhere on Mumbles Road, when we reach our destination I find myself staring at a three-story town house filled with drunken students. I haven’t noticed any Sprites around, though I expect them to keep themselves away from crowds of people. Amy announces that she is going to get us drinks. The music is loud and there is a variety of alcohol in the kitchen; people seem to be enjoying themselves. We are in the living room when Amy appears again and hands me a glass of rosé wine and a pint of beer for George. Then she vanishes, explaining that she has to meet a French bloke that she was introduced to at the las
t party.

  ‘So why are you really here, George?’ I ask, making sure that I sound serious; I have to raise my voice, as the music is so loud. He looks at me as if he didn't understand my question.

  ‘I told you I missed you,’ he says and begins kissing my neck gently. I shiver, but I am not going to let him fool me, I push him away.

  ‘Where were you for all that week when I was in the hospital?’ I continue, as I don't want to fall for his charm so soon, he looks at me for a while and takes a pull on his beer.

  ‘I didn't know that you were in the hospital and I have been thinking how badly I treated you in the past,’ he is staring at me, his honey-brown eyes full of pity. ‘I want us to be real now.’

  My jaw drops. George is expressing real feeling towards me. I can't believe what I am hearing. On any other occasion, I would be over the moon but today feelings for him are no longer in my heart, I don't want him to feel this way.

  ‘What do you mean by ‘real’’?’ I ask, taking a sip of wine. ‘Being a real couple?’

  If he is not really serious he would back off at this point, but his expression doesn't change.

  ‘I thought about it for a long time and I want us to be together.’

  I smile and decide to play it my way, remembering all the times when I cried because of his lack of emotions. My subconscious reminds me about the handsome sprite who visited me a while ago.

  ‘Let me think about it. For now let’s enjoy this party,’ I say, almost whispering and push him in the middle of the floor where everyone is dancing. He doesn't have a chance to say anything else but his expression clearly shows that he didn't expect the answer I gave him. I drink the large glass of rosé, forgetting about all the tensions from last week. I want to get drunk tonight. The music is fast, and I am feeling amazingly relaxed. George vanishes to get more drinks and I search for Amy, but in the room full of people it is difficult to spot anyone.

  6

  Around midnight, I have drunk almost a whole bottle of wine and had a few sour apple shots. A thick cloud of smoke fills the room but I am in a great mood. George disappears again, but I don't care, as I had few Americans students with me topping up my drink now and again. I am feeling dizzy and unstable, but I am having an amazing time, despite losing my informal boyfriend. I am not sure how long I have been dancing, but George seems to forget about his romantic statement because he is still nowhere to be seen. I sit down on the sofa, trying to sustain my good mood; I sway as sickness hits me. The excitement dies down and I need to find the bathroom. The music is buzzing in my ears but most people are lying on the floor looking worn out, drunk. I close my eyes, trying to gather my thoughts, when suddenly I hear a scream. A young black girl walks into the room, shouting:

  ‘Someone’s knocked out!’

  A lot of people get up and storm towards the kitchen; I follow the crowd pushing the people gathering around the kitchen. It’s a small kitchen now there is around twenty people all squished together.

  ‘On the patio, she is lying there,’ someone is saying.

  ‘Is she dead?’

  ‘What happened?’ I ask as I push past everyone, through the kitchen and walk into the small garden.

  My mind goes blank when I notice Amy, who is lying on the ground. She is unconscious, it looks that she hurt her head because there is a large on her bruise on her forehead, she is bleeding. Next to her, there is a pale student, who looks terrified, pale glancing at crowd.

  ‘What happened?’ I shout, touching Amy. She has a pulse. ‘What the hell happened?’

  The student looks at me with fear in his eyes and makes an awful sound, which I don't understand.

  ‘Can someone call an ambulance?!’ I shout. Someone walks off to find the phone. Everyone else is staring at me in silence, whispering something one to another.

  ‘Someone was in the garden, he pushed me and then…’ the guy begins with a shaky voice. Tears are running down his cheeks and I am praying to God for Amy to be OK. Next to the pale student, I notice Gabriel, who is staring at me expressionless. There are few more fairies standing a bit further away, looking concerned. I want to shout at them to do something, but I can't move.

  ‘Who was in the garden?’ I push the pale bloke away. He is shaking with fear.

  ‘A man, I couldn’t see his face, he’s done something to her,’ he continues, not looking at me. I try to convince him to tell me more, but after a while he continues repeating the same thing over and over again. The ambulance arrives twenty minutes later along with the police. I am not allowed to go with Amy, neither is the French student. A few other people are taken to the station. I take a taxi home, completely forgetting about George. I am not prepared to talk to the police tonight, and I am lucky to get away so quickly. I am shattered; when I get home I wake Carl and Michael up and tell them what has happened. They decide that we need to get to the hospital. The time passes so quickly, when I look at my phone its 2 o'clock in the morning. We take a taxi to the University hospital, but when we arrive, the doctor can't tell us anything because we are not related. I am worried about her, but I am not sure what we are supposed to do.

  ‘What exactly happened in that party?’ Michael is staring at me, looking uneasy. I am not sure how to answer his question; I can't even look at him.

  ‘I don’t know exactly, I wasn’t there. The guy that Amy was with says that someone came to the garden when they were there.’

  ‘Someone else?’ asks Carl, confused.

  ‘Well I don’t know, that’s what he said, but he is in shock, so I couldn’t make out what he was saying exactly. Maybe he did something to her so that she is unconscious, it looked like she hurt her head pretty bad.’ I am so exhausted that I can barely stand but I have to stay to find out if Amy is all right.

  I am awakened by Carl; I had fallen asleep on the chair. I am still in my party clothes and my head is hurting. Carl announces that Amy’s parents are here; I look at my watch and realise it is close to four in the morning. I am feeling guilty and I can't look at Amy’s parents. Her mother is crying and her father looks tired. They speak to the doctors for a while.

  ‘I am glad you stayed,’ says Amy's mother. She has long dark hair and she looked exhausted. She is much shorter than me, with narrow blue eyes.

  ‘I am sorry; I should have told her to stay in last night,’ I begin feeling guilty. I was supposed to check on Amy but instead I was enjoying myself getting drunk.

  ‘It’s not your fault, darling. Amy was always very social.’

  ‘Is she conscious, did she say what happened?’ I ask.

  Amy’s mum breathes and taps me slightly on the shoulder.

  ‘She is conscious now. She drank too much; she passed out and hurt her head.’

  ‘But someone pushed her or attacked her, as far as I know?’ I say, confused. I know she drunk too much, but I don't think that's the reason that she is in the hospital.

  ‘I don’t think so, she overdid it with alcohol and fell over. They’re keeping her in because they wanted to monitor everything is all right,’ says Amy's mum. ‘You need to go home and get some sleep.’

  I nod with agreement and leave the corridor, wondering why Amy hasn't told anyone the truth. The police would want to interview her. I leave the hospital with Carl and Michael. I don’t understand what happened exactly and I won't know until I speak to Amy. The guy from the party was certain that Amy was attacked. When I get home, I go straight to bed, feeling exhausted and sick. I am hoping to relax in my bed and catch up with my sleep but surprisingly George is already in my bed.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he asks, standing up, but he is still drunk and unable to keep his balance.

  ‘In the hospital; my housemate was attacked few hours ago, but of course, you don’t know anything about that, because as always, you were not there,’ I say angrily, folding my arms together. ‘So now I am asking you where the hell have you been?’

  He doesn't respond straightaway, staring at me and calcul
ating his response.

  ‘I went with this American student to get some blow. I’m sorry, I should have stayed with you,’ he says giving me an apologetic look but I start laughing, feeling betrayed.

  For a minute, I’d believed that he changed, but it's obvious that he didn't and then remembered all of his previous promises that he was never able to fulfil either. He is staring for a long while and doesn't say anything until he leans closer and kisses me. It takes me few seconds to realise what he is trying to do, I push him away, slapping his soft cheek with my palm.

  ‘What the hell, George? You think you can show up here at any time as if nothing ever happened and just walk into my bed?’

  I am fuming while my heartbeat quickens. I lost control within a few seconds, my palm is aching and George looks disappointed.

  ‘Ania, I’m sorry,’ he whispers.

  ‘Just leave me alone, I can’t deal with this right now,’ I say, showing him the door.

  ‘I’ll sleep downstairs,’ he leaves shutting the door behind him.

  I hold my head in my hands, trying to gather my thoughts, wondering why I just slapped a man that I thought I loved. My hands are still shaking. I think about Amy, the Sprites and George. Everything is falling apart around me; I replay the moment where George asked me to be his girlfriend. When my breathing slows down I lift my head, feeling that I need to sleep but freeze, as I catch sight of Gabriel, who is standing in front of me. I feel that he already knows why I am not happy. He is the last person that I really want to see right now, but somehow I feel as if I need him to be with me. The darkness is covering our bodies but a silence is between us.

  We are staring at each other, forgetting about the harsh reality and I can feel my heart reacting. He touches my cheek and the familiar electric current runs through me. His hands are warm, caressing my pale skin. His deep-blue eyes are filled with serenity and passion. I keep telling myself to breathe, but I am unable to exhale the air from my lungs. Then he leans forward and his lips touch mine, increasing the temperature in my body. He kisses me gently, trying to break his way through, testing to see if I let him in. His lips are sweet and warm. A few seconds later it is all over and he disappears once again, leaving me uncontrollably awake and trying to gather my wild thoughts.