This, I thought angrily, was stupid.
I was sitting in a bright workshop, crossed legged in a small wooden chair, my itchy pink gown falling over my scraped knees. Over in the corner were 5 people discussing very heatedly a topic of which I 'had no concern over, ยด apparently, but I knew they were talking about me. Everyone was. I was the topic of the century.
"But she's not supposed to be one!" One man with a bushy beard muttered angrily.
"I agree with the toymaker," Another person said, turning to face him.
"Then how is that little Sheila one?" A giant rabbit said grumpily.
One man just shrugged.
I sighed and shifted my legs, to which, I promptly stepped on my gown, and went flying onto the floor.
All the men turned to stare at me.
I giggled nervously, and waved. "Hi."
They looked at me strangely.
Quickly I got up and sat back down in my chair, blushing furiously. Stupid, I thought to myself, you don't wave!
The men began to mutter again.
I sighed once more. They were right of course. I wasn't supposed to be one. A guardian, that is. I was just here because the stupid man in the moon chose me to be a stupid guardian, and I had to go because I had no stinking choice. I didn't belong here. I wasn't like the rest of them. I wasn't a holiday or special occasion. I wasn't like Santa, or the Tooth Fairy, for example. Then what am I?
I am the fairy godmother.