Sunday, February 17, 2013

Week 6: Write a page of dialogue between a man who was a changeling (a faerie that takes on the appearance of a child) and the child whose life he stole. (Inspired by The Stolen Child)

The little boy closed the door to his room. It was a nice room, full of toys for little boys. There were little dolls with toy guns and swords, guns that shot out little plastic and foam disks, video games, and coloring books. There were bunk beds in the corner of the room. In the bottom bunk was a five year old boy sleeping.
The little boy, who looked to be about nine had seen hundreds of rooms like this one. Throughout time the toys had changed from basic sticks, balls, and corncob dolls to train sets and toy  cars, and finally to video games and little electronic doodads that did all sorts of things. The boy reached on top of his dresser where a jar sat. In this jar there was what appeared to be a bug, but it would only look like a bug to a normal person, with it’s end all lit up green. The boy could see this bug for what it really was.
“Let me out,” the little bug demanded.
The boy thumped the edge of the glass causing the little bug to cover its ears. Do bugs have ears? I don’t know, but what matters is that it wasn’t a bug in the jar, it was the real little boy, only in the form of a fairy. “Why would I do that, little bug?”
“That’s my room out there.” The little bug fairy boy slammed a little tiny fist against the glass but it did no good. “That’s my little brother in that bed. That’s my mom and dad.”
“Look at this way, I’ve given you a whole new life. You wanted an escape from your life, from the chores, bullies, and little brothers who broke your toys. How many little children dream of life as a fairy? You get to fly through gardens, dodging spider webs and wasp nests. You get to be harassed by a praying mantis and hope that you don’t anger the ant hill. They can be dangerous enemies.” The boy who had been a fairy seemed to be lost in thought for awhile.
“Please,” the little bug fairy boy clasped his tiny hands together. “Let me go, let me be the boy I was.”
“Let you go, yes. I think I will.” The boy who used to be a fairy grabbed the jar and headed out of the room.
“Hey, where are we going?”
“I’m letting you go.”
“I mean let me be me again. Let me be my dad’s ‘little buddy’ again, my mom’s ‘big man,’ and my brother’s ‘bubba.’”
“I thought you hated your mom and dad because they made you take out the trash.”
“I didn’t mean it, I don’t mind taking out the trash.”
“I thought you hated your brother because he broke your toy gun.”
“No, I love my little brother.”
“Well don’t worry, I’ll be very good to them, and then maybe I’ll get one of my friends to send your little brother to you.”
“No.” The little bug fairy boy slammed his fist against the jar. He would not let this monster do that to David.
They were walking out of the house and into the backyard. “Relax, it’s not so bad in the garden. Seriously though, kid, watch out for the spider webs.” When they reached the garden the boy who used to be a fairy unscrewed the lid. “Well, have a good time, and if you run into a spider with only seven eyes, tell her that I’m very sorry, that is if she’ll listen to you before eating you.” He turned the jar upside down and shook it, knocking the little bug fairy boy against the walls, preventing him from clinging to the walls, the boy plummeted to the dirt below.

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