The day started with Billie being a nuisance, as usual. “Get up, get up! The storm faeries are playing outside!” Her blonde halo of hair shimmered, ethereal, as she pranced over to the window. The grimy glass gave everything a brown tinge, and it refused to do its job in keeping the cold, wet and vile outside from getting in. The way Billie’s eyes went glazed over and dreamy, I could tell that whatever she saw, it wasn’t through those panes.
I flopped over in bed, groaning. “Sure, Billie. Now shoo.” Billie could amuse herself.
“Leylah, Sybil, get in here,” Mom shouted from the main room. My insufferable little sister floated through the door, while I trudged half-asleep towards the coffee. As I passed, Mom pulled me aside. “You know better than to encourage her.” Her voice was low, but my stomach dropped with a dread I didn’t want to think too much about. Thinking is bad; it brings up things better left in the past.
Another day at my no-name middle school passed in a haze of boredom. One might think they would let us out, what with the rain and winds battering the building into cold, dank misery, but no. Whatever. Whether or not they lump me in with the rest of my infuriating, directionless generation, it doesn’t matter. I’m going to figure out what happened, especially if none of them take me seriously-- there’s nothing quite as useful as being constantly underestimated.
As soon as they released me, I went over to my usual haunts, keeping my ears open for any mention of Bel. It’d been months since Mom gave up on her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to. It was several fruitless hours, and I was about ready to head home, when the lights flickered off.
I immediately tensed. In this part of town, a power outage can bring out the dangerous types, wondering what they can get away with in the darkness. I fumbled for my phone, and impatiently sat through four rings before Mom picked up, groggy and slurring.
My alarm grew, but I kept my voice firm. Passed out drunk was never a good sign. “Are you and Billie at the apartment?”
“What time is it? Is Sybil getting home soon?”
“It’s past seven, Mom!” I hung up on her alarmed cursing. I knew she’d chew me out about it later, but right then I needed to think, and act, quickly.
I ran out of the building, search patterns that I’d read about police using flying through my head. Before I’d even rounded two corners, I spotted a familiar slash of blonde. Billie’s arms were outstretched, and her lips were moving. She was completely drenched. I don’t know how she heard my splashing footfalls over the roaring storm, but she grinned up at me, gesturing at a patch of air.
“Look! I followed the faeries, Leylah. They’re so much fun to play with. They want to play with you, too.”
