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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Lived
Daffodils
Inside
Daffodil
Hear
Fairies
Talking
Petals
Family
Whispering
Different
Fairy
Separate
Flower
Tulips

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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
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The deep blue of your eyes had secrets. I wanted them.
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.
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The land wants you here. I want you here, you called. Don't you care about that at all?
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I thought you wanted to catch a camel, you tried again. No. I want to. Well, you go then. You laughed. I want your beautiful face where I can see it
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
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You smiled then, and your whole face changed with it. It kind of lit up, like there were sunbeams coming from inside you.
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
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Doesn't that hurt? I said. Yep. How do you keep them in there? I'm stubborn. You grinned. Stubborn as a waddywood. And anyway, pain means it's healing. Not always.
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
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And it's hard to hate someone once you understand them.
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Far, far away something made a single ghostly howl, like a banshee in the dark.
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Your beautiful mouth was moving like a caterpillar. I reached out and tried to catch it.
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The sand stretched out gray and ghostlike and illuminated, a column of light leading forward. It was like something a dead person would see, a tunnel leading toward heaven.
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
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It sounded weird to hear you talk so much normally you only said a few words at a time. I'd never imagined that you'd have a story, too. Until that moment, you were just the kidnapper. You didn't have reasons for anything. You were stupid and evil and mentally ill. That was all. When you started talking, you started changing.
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