The boy realized I wasn't laughing, and cocked his head at an angle, as if pondering why I wasn't. The moon dripped light through the open window, and highlighted his body, showing every freckle and piece of blonde hair on his body.
Really, he wasn't that scary, but I was still petrified, and crawled backwards toward the door. What is this, this /strange/ dirt caked boy doing in my bedroom?
"Get…away. Go..." I tried to choke out words, but they ended up as faint whispers, as silent as morning dew.
This somehow amused the boy, (Who must have very good hearing) and he laughed even harder.
"I /should/ go. Oh, how horrible it is that I must endure the most awful company of a female. But, I'm here for a reason. Where's my fairy?"
I was speechless, and all of my fear dissolved, I was so upset I didn't catch the 'fairy' part. All of my piled up anger and frustration was unleashed on his poor soul.
"How dare you talk about girls like that?" I yelled. I restrained myself from lunging at his /angelic/ face.
"It got you off the floor. Now, back to the point. Where. Is. My. Fairy. I know you captured her yesterday when you were fairy-hunting. Where is she? If you don't tell, I will find out for myself."
"Fairy?" I laughed. "I don't believe in Fairies." It wasn't true, I actually have a very strong belief for them, but I wouldn't let this, BOY, know that.
My statement made his face melt, all of a sudden overwhelmed by sadness.
He whispered something, to soft for me to hear, and as his voice got louder I realized he was croaking, and trying to hold back tears.
"I...I...hate you. I hate you! I HATE YOU!" I have never seen a boy so upset about my beliefs before.
He threw a tantrum, right on my bedroom floor. Still chanting, over and over that he hates me. I finally gave in and said in my most honest voice,
"I do believe in fairies. I do. I'm sorry. I do."
He looked at me, and he twisted his face into a menacing glare.
And with that, he started looking through my things. He would stare at some things and laugh, but then his face would turn way to serious for a young boy. He stopped when he found my butterfly jar that had had 8 beautiful butterflies captured inside. I've found it fascinating, that for the whole 2 days I have had them, they didn't budge from their spots. They made a giant outer layer, so you couldn't see in the middle of the jar. I liked to pretend they were protecting something, but I wasn't curious enough to try to find out what. The boy, I guess, was, and shook the jar with extreme force, and opened the top.
I was extremely annoyed.
"Boy-STOP. Put that top back on! Catch that butterfly, PUT THE TOP BACK ON. Wait. What is that?"
A ball of light, no bigger then an apple, flew out of jar slowly, and landed on the boy's shoulder. It was growing fainter and fainter.
The boy looked extremely upset, and cradling the ball of light between his hands, he flew out my window.
I was relieved he was gone, what a hassle.
I sighed, and went back to snuggling in between my covers.
I was about to fall asleep when my eyes flew wide open.
He… flew?
I couldn't sleep for the rest of the night, no matter how badly it seemed I needed it.