"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
- Sylvia Plath, Mad Girl's Love Song
It was the early hours on a cool, damp Thursday. Stars only just pinpricked the orange sky which mirrored the colour of the remaining leaves on the trees lining the road of the picturesque suburbs.
It was on this morning that young Tobey Williams awoke to a ghostly white fluttering at his window.
Rubbing his eyes, Tobey bleary stared at his clock which read half past six. Despite the freezing floor he stumbled over to the window. The young boy greeted the owl with a cheerful 'Good Morning!' as he struggled with the latch.
The owl look over it's should in a casual way almost as if it was saying, 'Oh, it's you. Well, don't keep me waiting.' But that was silly because owls don't talk, Tobey thought sleepily as he finally got the latch undone. No, owls don't talk at all, except maybe to other owls.
As the owl flittered through the open window, Tobey pulled a box of cereal out of his school bag under the bed.
"Do owls eat cereal?" He had asked his mother at the breakfast table the other morning. Karen, was thin, shrewd looking woman who although loved her son very much, had never truly wanted a child and sometimes was at a loss of what to do with hers.
She glanced over the top of her glossy magazine, "If it makes you eat your breakfast any faster, yes," Karen sighed, and tried to rub away an oncoming headache, "Honestly Tobey, where do you get these ideas from?"
By now, the owl had set itself comfortably on his window sill, feathers puffed out, calmly talking in it's surroundings, eyes glancing over a bears cap slung over the bedhead, an Italian soccer poster tacked to the fading pastel blue wall, the bookshelf in the corner simply overflowing with fantasy books. Tobey offered the regal bird a sticky hand of cereal, "What do owls talk about, Mr. Owl?" asked Tobey inquisitively.
If owls could roll eyes, then at this moment, this one would have done. Instead, it stared disdainfully at Tobey, not unlike some of his teachers or perhaps a King or a Queen. Tobey inspected himself to make sure he hadn't offended the owl. Maybe his scruffy mat of brown hair reminded the owl of it's nest.
Tobey set down the cereal on the desk next to the owl and plonked himself down on his new swizzy chair, that he had practically begged his parents to get him for his seventh birthday. It was black and had little wheels at the bottom that didn't work because of the carpet in the room. Tobey had already told the owl this on one of their first encounters.
As the sun slowly rose over pristine houses Tobey babbled merrily about his week so far to the snowy owl who, if it could have done, look rather bored. It wouldn't have been surprising if the bird had started tapping a claw impatiently.
The sky was quite blue by now but the sun barely peaked out from behind ominous, grey clouds. A smelly, white car trundling was slowly towards the house. Seeing the car, Tobey leapt from his seat in joy and turned to the owl. "She's back! She's come home from Paris, Mr. Owl!"
The owl ruffled its feathers, "Who?" It seemed to inquire.
"It's my sister, Sarah!" Said Tobey, hopping from foot to foot, "She went for adventures in a place that likes Ropes! See!" Tobey pointed to a postcard displaying an image of the Eiffel tower and the slogan 'PARIS, the crown jewel of EUROPE!'
"I wonder if she's bought back any presents..." pondered Tobey, munching on a handful of the brightly coloured cereal.
The owl cooed again, drawing Tobey away from his thoughts of presents and strange people who didn't speak the right language. "I know Mr. Owl, it is very exciting." beamed Tobey, "She'll tell me all about her adventures, when she drives me to school for the rest of the week."
The owl seemed to perk up at this. As it dugs it's claws into the desk, it stretched it's wings archly and promptly soared out the open window.
"Hey," called Tobey,"Come back, Sarah's really not that bad for an older sister!"
But the owl was long gone.
It was already half past eight by the time Tobey got down stairs, school bag slung over one shoulder, soccer ball tucked under the other arm. Sarah caught sight of him on the stairs and swigged down the last of her coffee, pecking her father on the cheek as he hummed away to himself over his toast and nodding politely to Karen.
"Nice seeing you," her voice a rippling stream, "We should meet up for drinks sometime." She was already out the door before her father could even mumble something about next week through a mouth full off toast.
The moment Sarah was out of the kitchen, Tobey leaped off the fifth step like an Olympic diver, and for a moment the laws of gravity seemed bend for the boy, allowing him to land gracefully into a laughing Sarah's arms.
"Don't scuff the carpet!" came a high whine from the kitchen. Both siblings mischievously stifled chortles, as they snuck out the grand front door, like a pair of mice.
Not quietly enough it seemed though, because just as Tobey climbed into the front seat of the rickety car, his mother materialised at the front door, like a banshee with red hair and inch long polished nails.
"Back seat, Tobey," order Karen.
Tobey rolled his eyes at this.
"Come on, Karen, I'm not a Taxi service!" Sarah exclaimed, her long hair whipping in the howling wind. Tobey's mum narrowed her eyes, butter would not have melted in that woman's mouth.
"It looks like a death trap Sarah!" remarked Karen.
"That's the downside of travelling, Karen," replied Sarah, slipping into the driver's seat, "No money for such luxuries."
After sitting through the normal morning traffic on the way to school which was filled with Sarah's amiable chatter and the dying splutter of her car. If possible, the weather had gotten even worse by the time Tobey jumped out of the car at the front of the school. Dark ominous clouds brooded on the skyline. Two lone boys were braving the vicious weather, huddled at the unwelcoming school gates, whispering excitedly to one another. The school gates had always reminded Tobey of the gates he had seen in a book about prisons.
Kind of spiky, and not meant for keeping people out but rather meant for keeping people in.
"Bye Tobey!" Sang Sarah, as her car plodded away to her older kid school.
Tobey was already racing to get inside but turned to farewell his retreating sister and was nearly shocked out of his wits when he turned only to face the two boys who had been standing at the gates, now standing right behind him.
Neither were especially attractive, as if the person who made them had a vague idea on what real humans looked like. The short boy on the left had a fat greasy lip and a nose the same shape as a poisonous mushroom. The other one, who was standing closer to Tobey, had long spindly fingers, that would be good for strangling small things, such as birds or the little lizards that liked to sun bake in the gully trap behind Tobey's house.
Mushroom nose took a long, rattling breath, "Is that her?" his rheumy eyes following Sarah's car with wonder.
Tobey beamed proudly, "That's my sister Sarah. She's just come back from Paris. She bought me these little caramels in a jar the shape of the Eiffel Tower and-"
Long fingers shushed him, "It's her. The girl that ate the peach and forgot everything."
Tobey smiled a bit more nervously, shifting his soccer ball from one arm to the other, "Well, um, Sarah doesn't actually like peaches but whatever."
It came as a great relief to Tobey when the school bell finally vibrated across the grounds.
Tobey nodded to the two not quite right boys, "You guys can come play soccer with the rest of us at lunch if you want," he said politely before running inside to escape the oncoming storm.
A/N: Hello, I apologise for not updating more regularly but life has a habit of getting in the way. Thank-you for everyones reviews whether they were constructive or complimentary. To give more in site into this chapter, Sylvia Plath's poem very much reflect Sarah's relationship with Jareth in this fic. However this chapter was from Tobey's point of view and the chapter's will swap between his, Sarah's and Jareth's point of view.