Nolan had gotten up early that day. This was unusual enough in itself.
He had grabbed the bag lying on his desk chair. He had only decided to leave a few hours earlier. He had resolved to do it... [+]
Soon enough, Archie let out an enormous yawn, stretching his arms above his head. He allowed his head tilt onto his shoulder as he read the alarm clock to his right. Tiredly, he stared at the blinking red numbers. Twelve o’clock: that’s when he finally admitted defeat to his drowsiness, pulling the fuzzy blanket over his head and turning to his side. He fell asleep looking out the window, unaware of the large firefly that had landed on the window sill.
Miraculously, the locked window was slowly lifted without waking the boy, allowing the tiny creature to slip through. The girl expected him to have some sort of sixth sense and shoot up from his bed, throwing his blanket across the room and trapping her beneath it. She swallowed the lump in her throat. Her overactive imagination, a side effect of her magical abilities, was acting up again.
A tiny voice asked, “Is he the one?”
The whisper fell between her lips before she had even realized it. She was so unsure of herself. The doubt of others had finally gotten into her head.
“You can’t do it,” they’d sternly tell her. “Stay unless you want the boy to rip you to pieces.”
Trying to ignore the negativity circling her head the girl took a deep breath. She knew the task was certainly not for the faint-hearted but she believed she was a dauntless soul.
“It’s now,” she hesitated just slightly before continuing, “or never.”
The boy blinked the sleep out of his eyes. He rolled restlessly to his side again, trying to catch a glance at the alarm clock. Twelve o’clock, again, read the vibrant flashing numbers. He groaned, sitting up in his bed. His hand did its best to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but when he looked in front of him a figure stood by the window.
She’d done this many times before. Changing her form. They taught her how to do it middle school. All you had to do was alter someone’s perception. Practically get inside someone's head and make them believe they’re seeing something totally different when the reality is that they’re looking at a glowing ball of light.
Once his eyes adjusted in the dark he didn’t jump back. He didn’t scream or cry. He just stared at the girl with radiant blonde hair and icy blue eyes. He didn’t want to be the first to talk.
“Maybe,” he thought, “if I just went back to bed...” He wasn’t sure what he was seeing, but he thought he’d better avoid it-- whatever it was.
The second his eyes closed a voice pulled them back open.
And so he did.
She scolded herself for being so rash. If this boy was who the myths made him up as then she would’ve already been dead. When the boy sat back up against the headboard he was wearing a lukewarm smile. She didn’t know whether to feel alarmed or greeted. The smile was sweet and welcoming. It was as if the sun was radiating from his pearly white teeth. How could someone so delightful have done all of those awful things? Despite her doubtful thoughts, she remained dedicated to her mission.
“Boy Wonder,” she called out the boy’s name which failed to gain his full attention or curiosity. “I’ve come to vanquish you.”
The boy choked on air. ”Excuse me?” He laughed shallowly.
“It’s the prophecy. I don’t make it.”
“Why am I explaining myself to him?” The bitter thought was mumbled to no one in particular. “It’s not like it’ll matter in the end.”
The girl was fidgeting. She picked at her stubby fingernails and scratched the backs of her hands. Archie could see past the stubbornness in her eyes. Beyond that was a girl struggling to carry out an order. Whatever that order may be. He loved playing dumb.
Her internal struggle continued despite her even realizing it. Where was the proof? What exactly did he do? When did a prophecy overrule a person’s life? But she always countered those thoughts with: “It’s my destiny.”
She looked at the alarm clock on the boy’s bedside. 12:00. She still had enough time to finish this. A spark formed at the girl’s fingertips. It was too pretty to be flames. The tiny orbs turned every color before bursting in the air. When the ashes fell to the ground a hole formed in the carpet. One hit from one of these and Boy Wonder would be dead. She took a deep breath, letting the cool air from the boy’s room fill her lungs. The window was never closed.
“Goodbye,” She swallowed and lifted her hand. The sparks radiated at her broken nails. For the first time that night she looked straight into the boy’s eyes. They were an emerald green. Before she could stop them the sparks made their way to the boy.
“Move!” She screamed. The poor girl realized far too late what had been done.
Boy Wonder’s eyes were blue. A bright aqua blue. They were thin with thick eyelashes. They were distasteful. They were everything this boy: Archie Smith, was not.
He got away in time. Only the ankles of his pajama pants were scorched.
“I’m so sorry.” She cried on her knees.
He pointed towards the window. “You are not fit to call yourself a fairy. Being so reckless, not knowing whether a boy is guilty or not, and believing what others have spread through the grapevine.”
She looked at him with teary eyes. The unpleasant taste of salt filled her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated.
And so she did.
The boy, Archie Smith, was one of her mentors. He had been formulating this scheme for months. He was the one who intentionally started the rumors about this so called Boy Wonder. She failed.
There is no escape from destiny.