The Firefly Fairies--Chapter Seven

Fiction By Madeline // 7/28/2010


Alice skampered across Darkrade's streets, grimacing at each throb her ankle made as it hit the pavement. Shadows were cast over the tip of her brown hair, making her bob look shorter than usual. Silver glinted in her eyes for a moment. She gasped as she was yanked up. Now it was all over. Alice couldn't escape and go save Sherylyn. With a faint sigh, she blacked out. 


Starlight glanced over at Whitestorm with a look of apprehension. He held a limp fairy in his arms, continuing their flight.

"Should we have taken her?" Starlight questioned. "I mean, what do we do now that we have her?" 

Whitestorm but his lip. "I don't know. We must have scared her. Let's dump her somewhere a little ways up." 

Starlight wasn't used to this aggresive side of Whitestorm. Her hands trembled slightly as she answered. "I...I don't like the sound of that." It made her feel very strange to counter him, and maybe even a little bit sick. With anger, she realized it was this "love" thing.

It took all Whitestorm's strength to dissagree. "No. I-It's n-not." He paused to grin his teeth and continued with a strained voice. "A good idea t-to let her g-go." 

Starlight couldn't take this arguement they were having, no matter how strange. She reached out and grabbed his hand. "No matter. We can compromise." 

Whitestorm looked relieved. "Good. I say we keep her with us, as prisoner, and question her when she wakes."

Starlight bit her lip, mentally weighing the pros and cons of this decision. "I guess it will work." She flew a little closer to Whitestorm. "We are one now, Whitestorm, and we have to think on the same page so we don't feel bad." 

Whitestorm leaned closer to her, their faces inches away. "I think that'd be perfect."

Starlight smiled and looked up at the moon shining over head. "I think...whatever happens...we'll be okay." And she gave his hand a comforting squeeze. 


Ashten looked worriedly over at James through thin glass, who was frowning as he talked to Sherylyn's doctor. Only a few yards away, Sherylyn was propped up on a white hospital bed, an IV stuck in her arm. She was sleeping, but her breathing was scratchy and labored. 

"Thanks Doctor Fischer," Ashten heard James say. He pushed open the door to room one-oh-one open and walked in, rubbing his head. 

"Whats wrong with her?" Ashten asked worriedly. "James?" 

"He says he doesn't know," James admitted honestly. "He could be something as dire as kidney failure, or as minor as the flu. It just came on so suddenly..." he trailed off as he looked at his daughter, his face screwed up in frustration. His position was rigid. Suddenly, his shoulders relaxed. 

"I'm going to go get some coffee, do you want any?" 

"No thanks," Ashten answered, looking away. James walked out, his back to them. Ashten sighed and smoothed Sherylyn's hair back. 

"Lyn," she said loveling. "What could be wrong?" 

It had been four days ago that Sherylyn had woken up, in a serious sweat and was sick several times. James took her in the next day, and she was given and IV and already several tests had been run on what could be the cause.

Ashten sat and reached out for Sherylyn's hand. She took it slowly and grasped it firmly. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

Would Sherylyn be ok? What would happen if James lost the only family he had left?

With a ragged sigh, Ashten's tears finally flowed.


Sam pulled a long turtleneck over his head. The heat of the house seeped through the thin matierial, making him feel hot and stuffy. He flipped his bangs back from his face with an exasperated sigh.

What would a boy need for fairy hunting? What could he possibly use to catch these tiny and michevious creatures. With a burst of imspiration, he raced across the hall, grabbing an old toothbrush and some dental floss. 

He dumped the articles in his room and slunk across the hall, going into his parent's room. His father was sound asleep becuase he worked the night shift. Sam held his breath as he tiptoed to their closed door.

"CREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAKKKKK!" Sam jumped back as the door exploded with sound as he opened it. He tured to see his father shift position, but luckily he remained asleep.

Sam reached down to grab his next three items on his list for a fairy catcher. He grabbed one of his mother's balls of yarn, blue, his favorite color. He stuffed that into a duffel bag hanging off of his shoulder. Quickly checking to see if anyone was in the room, he grabbed three of his father's ties. He closed the closet door and threw himself on the ground, inching along until he made it to his dad's desk. He hopped up, took a huge stack of paper and an even larger stack of envelopes. He also quickly took one of his dad's blue ink pen--the nice one--with heavy heavy ink for writing on thick paper. If they found out what he was doing, his parents would demolish him.

He felt an urge to roll across the carpeted floor, so he did--straight into his mother's legs.

"Sam!" she hissed in a whisper, careful not to wake his father. "What are you doing?"

"Uh...using the...potty!" Sam tried to smile innocently but failed.

"The potty? Sam, you're not four." She paused and made a face. "Oh, goodness, that means I'm old! Ugh. It's your fault I'm old Sam!" She paused and looked around. "But I love you anyway." 

Sam was horrified to see his mother plant a big old fat kiss on his cheek, and then move out of the room. He vigorously wiped at his skin until his cheeks were red.

"Mommy kisses!" He grunted and then realized he'd said "mommy." 

This was not a good day for him.



Emma gasped, at the surpising news she was being told over the phone.

"No! What's wrong? what happened? why is she is the hospital?" Emma asked anxiously her heart pounding.

"I'm sorry, I know as much as you do. The doctors have no clue what could have caused it. The said it might have been a kidney problem" Said Mr. James saddly. His voice was weired and depressed.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Stevenson! I... You must be so sad... I hope... I hope she gets better. Send my love!..well Bye" Emma said unsurel.

" Yes.. Thank you.. Good bye" . The line sudenly cut off and beeping came to Emma's ears.

" Mom....!" Emma called, racing downstairs, "MOM!!".

" Yes dear!" Called out Emma's mother. A women who looked a lot like her daughter.

"Mother, Sherrylyn is in the hospital!" Emma said gasping for breath after her run to the dinning room.

"Oh Dear! what happend?".

"I don't know..."


Meadowlilly leaned against her windowsill, breathing the crisp morning air. She sighed as she thought about Starlight. Starlight would have made a poem about this morning. And it would have been lovely Meadowlilly thought forlornly, She would have said " Oh how the air feels as if the leafs of fall had past and left their crispness"  She smiled as she could almost hear her saying such, Poor Starlight, she has no idea what humans are like. She will be killed! Meadowlilly burst into tears, burying her head into her arms, . My poor, poor little sister. Her heart bled and quaked. A hand was put comfortingly on her shoulder, she raised her head to see Flowerdbell - her chamber maid- smiling soothingly.

"Flowerdbell... why does it pain me so!" Meadowlilly sobbed, uncontrollably.

" She is your sister, you are conserned. Like all older sister's are when they fear that their sibling might be killed. You love her, and that's what your suppost to do" Flowerdbell said softly, her voice ringing throughtout the room. 

"It doesn't seem right," Meadowlily continued. "We sit here, perfectly fine, not a bruise, not a pain, but she fights us, her kin, to continue the human race. Why?" 

The elderly Floweredbell smiled gently. "I've know your sister was soft hearted from the second she was born. I watched her, studied her, when I was her nanny for three months. She grew quick, that you know, and soon she was in need of someone younger, lighter, to preserve her. But I...I saw the way she shyed away from Spideruby, the way Darkthorn made her eyes wild with worry, the way word of the war made frown lines between her brows." 

"I just wish she could have warned me," Meadowlily said, rubbing her temples. "I wouldn't have told." 

"Oh dear," Floweredbell said with a laugh, both sad and concerned. "She knew that. But she wouldn't want to tell you because she didn't want to burden you. She knew that your father and mother would go to emtreme lenghts to question you if they had the slightest assumption you knew anything. She knew, darling, she knew." 

With that, Meadowlily leaned into Floweredbell, felt the large arms embrace her, and she sobbed. 


That night was one of Sherylyn's most darkened hours of her life. She was in a sweat, sick to her stomach, not even knowing when she wa given water, when she was given broth. She couldn't tell the difference between cold and warmth, and the slightest touch made her shiver. She kicked her blankets away and tried to find them, but couldn't. Her vision was blurry, the pain in her arms was masked with an iv. And no matter what everyone did, they could not find her in there. She was lost. 

And then there was a feeling of sinking. She felt strange. She struggled to open her eyes. Pain ripped through her limbs. She convulged, her whole body shaking, moving up and down. 

"I feel SICK!" She wanted to scream. "Help me!" 

But she couldn't. 

One final continuous rip and her eyes opened. She could see clearly. 

And she saw she had wings




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