NEVER TRUST

Silently, I gaze out of the window at the slowly darkening yard. There are familiar sounds behind me. Ma fusses about my little brother, Da stokes the fire, the house creaks. Outside everything is quiet. It is a silence of a different kind, unfamiliar to most.

Maybe I should think of it as menacing, cold, or cruel, but it is impossible for me to fear that silence after all these years. I’ve faced that silence every night for ten years now. Ever since Granny died, and the fairies came to help me to bury her. I’m part of that silence now.

Bessie’s calf, all grown up and with a calf of her own now, moos. I remember the tone from that night, too. That mix of worry and fright. It scared me so badly back then.

The reflection in the glass smiles with too sharp teeth and narrow features.

We’ve never lived in luxury, but after Granny died, there’s always been enough food. The cows have given plenty of milk and the chickens always seemed to lay extra eggs after I took over the task of collecting them.

Ma worries that I don’t eat enough, but I do. It’s not a lack of food that’s making my fingers thin and long or making my eyes hurt in the sunlight. Some in the village whisper, but they are wrong too. Our home is not ramshackle, we do not live in squalor.

It always makes me angry to hear them, but I bite my tongue. Ma always cries when I spit back the venom those gossips deserve. According to her, we should all live in harmony. Pull together and all that other nonsense.

Da understands. He knows I follow the old ways like Granny did. We don’t talk about it, but he always makes sure to leave crumbs of his bread for me to clean and there’s always salt in the shaker by my window.

Blinking, I ignore the reflection and look past it into the shadows gathering. Today is New Year’s Eve. The end of the time of in between. Solstice came and went, ending the old, now it’s in between, the no man’s time, and tomorrow, tomorrow is the time of new things. A beginning.

I glance down at my hands and at the translucent skin on my arms. Tomorrow I’ll be of age. I feel the tug deep inside of me, the call to join them. The bond that was forged on that faithful night has only grown. It’s like a tree and its roots have burrowed deep into my soul.

Granny was right. Making a deal with fairies always comes with unexpected consequences. It’s just that I’m glad to pay for mine. The creature in the window grins, eyes glowing. I wait until everyone has gone to sleep before I move from my vigil.

Gathering the things I want to take with me doesn’t take long. Neither does writing the note I leave in Da’s pocket. Diligently, I salt all the window sills and make sure there’s an offering left outside the door.

Granny’s necklace and her diary go into the little bag I’ve been sewing since the winter solstice. It’s an item made in between, so I can carry it with me wherever I go.

It’s quiet when I slip out of the door with a handful of salt. Carefully, I kneel and finish salting the doorstep. As soon as the last grain of salt lands, I sense the barrier snap into place. Only, I’m outside of it this time.

The hiss tears out of my throat and hastily I take a step back, before spinning around. It doesn’t feel like running when I rush into the woods. My bare feet don’t make a sound, don’t break the silence.

The forest is alive all around me, but those sounds are part of the silence. And then I spill my blood, letting it drip on the ground as I give my oath. As I give up my old life. As I step over the threshold.

And I keep running, running, running, until the New Year’s Moon catches me. It’s time to begin again. My last human hope is that my Da will remember. Never trust a fairie.