Their iridescent wings flapped their wings which could only be described as “beautiful” if there ever was such a thing that could hold true in the word that encompassed–essentially–perfection. A meadow green one’s wings slapped together in a rhythmic beat much like the infinite lapping of waves on a calm day. It was a nice calm, if not a bit exciting type of calm, which generated from these little creatures that flew in loops and twirls around her head.
If only it could stay that way forever. But soon–too soon–she found herself being pulled away. The dream slipped from her like water. She found herself once again above the bed, where she watched her physical manifestation being tested on. Various people came and went. Doctors scribbled things on notepads and into laptops with their messy scrawl. The one problem was that she did not care. All she could think about was that fairyland where little creatures fluttered around her. And how she wanted to join their ranks.
The broken boy sat in the chair. He was forever waiting for a girl who was forever wanting to escape from her physical manifestation. If only people could be a bit less selfish and let others go to do what they would like, then maybe this story would have ended up a bit happier.
But day by day, she was slowly returning to her physical self. The hours passed, and with them, the visits to the fairies were less frequent and of a much lesser time. One day, she found her physical eyes opening with a sort of drowsy heaviness. She looked straight into the warm, chocolate brown ones owned by the once-broken boy. They both started to weep for different reasons. One was a happy weeping, for he was reunited with his lover. The other was a sad weeping for being contained once again to this small, painful world.