Jamie flipped through her notebook again. Half of the words seemed like nonsense, even to her. According to her writing, the moon was a spaceship, the Easter Bunny was something called a 'pooka,' and stars could send winged messengers between them. If she had not been reading the same gibberish for years, she might have believed herself insane after all.
Her arm whipped to the side as someone pulled the book away. She called out at the sudden movement only to hear laughter.
"No wonder you live in the group home. That's where they put the nut jobs!"
Jamie growled. "Give it back, Sam!"
Sam smirked and skimmed the pages with cruel green eyes.
"You're such a dork, Jamie. A 'moonship' following the earth?" he laughed.
"I thought the moon was supposed to be cheese," his lackey Merrick said.
Sam sighed, "Now, who would make a spaceship out of cheese, Merrick? That's just dumb."
"Give me my book back!"
"'Once upon a time, there was a very special bunny called a pooka.' That's not even a word. 'Pooka.'"
"That one's for later," Jamie said, grabbing for the book. "Now give it back, Sam! It's mine!"
Her fingers slid across the edge of a page before Sam pulled it further away and continued reading.
"'Many of the other pooka called him Bunnymund, but his closest friends called him Aster, and he made the best chocolate in the world.'" Sam said in a mocking tone. "You are seriously stupid."
Jamie stared at her knees as a small crowd of students gathered around her and Sam. She wanted to cry, but Miss Minkle said it was best to hide emotion from bullies. Instead, she stood up and forced a smile to her lips.
"Maybe you're right, Sam," she said slowly, "but would a stupid person do this?"
She swung her foot as hard as she could between his legs. He and the notebook both dropped as the collective mob around them gasped. Jamie swiftly scooped up the papers and dove into the mass of onlookers, barely avoiding Sam's hand as he reached for her hair. She huddled between two older students until the bully gave up looking for her and stormed off.
"Thank you," she said once it was safe.
One boy nodded, but the blonde clicked his tongue at her.
"Can't you just leave the book at the home, Jamie?" he said.
She shook her head, saying, "What if I get an idea and have nowhere to write it?"
"Jamie…"
"I'll be okay, Jeremy," Jamie said. "And I'll try to be more careful."
Jeremy sighed, tugging his jacket tighter around him and muttering about the harsh cold. Jamie's eyes drifted skyward to a swarm of tiny birds.
"We should head back, though," she said. "Don't want to be late for therapy."
"Oh, pshaw. No. Miss Minkle hates that," he agreed, taking her hand. "Let's get you back so you don't get in trouble."
Jamie clutched her notebook to her chest and swung her legs. The door opened suddenly, and a prim but kind-eyed woman in a dark pantsuit stepped inside.
"Hello, Miss Bennet. How was school today?" she asked sweetly.
Jamie bit her lip and said, "Pretty good. Sam was mean again, though."
"That's no fair."
"It's okay. North didn't bring him the movie he wanted," Jamie said. "He's used to getting what he wants."
Miss Minkle nodded, saying, "Yes, it's a shame, too. I wish more kids would be grateful for what they have like you are, but everyone is different, Jamie."
"'Just like everyone else,' right?"
Miss Minkle sat down with a smile. "That's exactly right, Jamie. Now, last time I saw you, you were telling me about the Man in the Moon. Anything new there?"
Jamie nodded and opened her book. "He made Pitch."
Miss Minkle scanned her notes. "And Pitch is the shadow man, right? The Nightmare King?" Jamie nodded again. "I thought the Man in the Moon was good."
"He is. But Fear got him, and Dreamcatcher turned into Pitch Black."
"I see. So he used to catch nightmares, but fear made him return those dreams?"
Jamie shrugged. "I guess?"
"You're very mature, Jamie," Miss Minkle said. "It's not easy to realize how fear changes our perception like that. Things that once were good become scary, and bad things seem comforting."
Jamie kicked her legs again. "Does it have to be a metaphor?"
"There's always a reason for the stories we tell."
"What if it's not a fairy tale?" Jamie asked. "What if it's more like, like a history book?"
Miss Minkle's smile faded. "Now, Jamie, we've discussed this. Magic-."
"Isn't real. Yeah," Jamie said sadly.
"Who do you think you are, Jamie? Which of the characters represents you?"
"I'm Jamie." She turned a few pages and cleared her throat. "'Once upon a time, a little girl named Jamie had a special gift. She could see and feel Mim's Guardians around her. And this is only the start of her story.' That's it," she said. "That's all I have."
"A very short story."
"I know. I've tried, Miss Minkle," Jamie promised, "but everything I write seems wrong. I don't know if I can write it. I think I have to… to do it."
Miss Minkle leaned forward, lacing her fingers together. "Do what, Jamie?"
Jamie stared at her feet. Miss Minkle asked again what she had to do.
"I have to help them."
"Help them?"
"The Guardians," Jamie said quietly. "They need me."
Miss Minkle sat up again and thought a moment, then said, "That's a lot of responsibility for a nine-year-old, Jamie."
"Mim thinks I can do it."
"You have a lot of faith in him, huh?" Jamie nodded, and Miss Minkle said, "I know how important it is to you to have your faith, Jamie. But I don't want you to get hurt, either."
"Okay?"
"I'm worried about how much you believe in these fantasies," Miss Minkle said. "I think you're using them as a substitute for a family. That you've created one in your mind that fills a void, but is preventing you from finding a real one."
Jamie blinked in confusion.
"A lot of your past fosters complained that you talked about them so much. If it continues, you may lose out on even more adoptions."
"You think I'm making it up," Jamie said.
"To be honest, yes."
Jamie shut her eyes and listened to the silence. She inhaled deeply and said, "Okay."
"So you'll stop?"
"Nope," Jamie said.
"Jamie, I know how much you want a family-," Miss Minkle said, shaking her head.
"I have a family, Miss Minkle. You just don't see them." Jamie picked up her backpack and slung it over her shoulder. "You can't. But thank you."
"Our time isn't done."
"It is. You can't help me. You have in the past, but not anymore."
Jamie walked towards the door, her notebook in hand. Miss Minkle rose quickly.
"Jamie, if you leave now, we'll be done."
The girl giggled at the threat. She traced the letters on the cover.
"We're already done, Miss Minkle."
She left the room with her head high. Living in one home after the next taught her a lot, like how to read adults. She sat down at her desk, opened her book, and wrote.
Once upon a time, a little girl named Jamie had a special gift. She could see and feel Mim's Guardians around her. And this is only the start of her story. Her belief was put to the test, and the only solution was to go where she would be listened to.
She decided to find the Guardians.
