Now, to our story…
Darnella drifted through the lush forest. While her sisters loved the varying shades of green from the dark colored oak leaves to the bright green buds of new growth, she preferred the sensations. The caress of a mandrake leaf against her skin delighted her. She giggled at the soft, squishy feel of moss beneath her bare feet. The gentlest wind in the open meadow could not compare to the diffused breeze she felt filtering through the leaves of the trees, wisping around the tree trunks.
Her sisters would frequently bathe in the clear water of the nearby pond, but she felt safer showering in the forest. Darnella had recently learned her old friend Janyst had been eaten by an alligator while bathing. Or was it a giant salamander? She could never keep the two straight.
In either case, neither one were to be found deep in the woods. Far from the open pond, she felt more secure, and hidden away from prying eyes. During a rainstorm, most people stayed indoors, providing less opportunity for Darnella to be seen than on a sunny day at the pond, when her sisters preferred to bathe.
She stopped beneath an oak tree. As the heavy rain fell through the leaves and branches, a gentler shower dropped under the tree. Darnella cautiously looked around her. Assured no one could see her, she tossed her silky pale blue dress over a branch and closed her eyes as the falling raindrops cleansed her.
After a few minutes or more—she had lost track of the time—she thought she heard something and opened her eyes. Folding her arms to conceal her breasts, she looked around. She could see no one.
She resumed showering, but heard muffled voices moments later. Teenage boys, she thought. Except for wings and a height of only four inches, fairies were anatomically identical to human females, making them a viewing target for hormone-driven teenage boys. They might get caught with their fathers’ pornographic magazines, but no one would ever suspect—or believe—they were spying on bathing fairies in the forest.
Most children completely forgot about fairies at the onset of puberty, but a small percentage would retain those memories even into their teen years. Some would spend hours pretending to be fishing while keeping a watchful eye for a fairy in need of a bath. Apparently, others would even withstand a downpour for the glimpse of a showering fairy.
Darnella realized they were likely harmless, only wanting to see her nude form. But she did not appreciate the violation of her privacy, and reached for her dress. Before she could grab it, a huge “thud!” surprised her, and she found herself trapped within transparent walls with a giant hand at the top.
She pushed against the wall, and she fell as it toppled over. She slid down the wall and hit a transparent flooring. She heard another sound as something metallic shut out some of the light above her.
Darnella looked around, only to see three pairs of giant eyes staring back at her.
She slid across the flooring as a pudgy, dark-haired boy grabbed the jar and began to open the lid.
“What’re you doing?” asked the fair-haired boy who had caught the fairy. “It’s mine! Don’t let her out!”
Darnella felt a bit of fresh air as the jar’s lid opened and immersed herself in the scent of freedom. Her hopes were soon dashed as chubby fingers grabbed her and pulled her from the jar.
The dark-haired boy smirked as he fondled the little fairy’s nude body. Darnella struggled to break free, but his grip remained tight. After a few moments playing with her, the boy flipped her over. She could see the ground just feet away—enough of a distance where she could take flight before hitting the dirt.
She shrieked as she felt her left wing ripped from her body. Then again as the boy plucked her right wing off. The boys heard only a buzzing comparable to that of an angry wasp. The dark-haired boy let the wings float to the ground and tossed her back into the jar.
“What did you do that for?” the other two boys asked.
The dark-haired boy sealed the jar tightly, and pushed it back into the hands of the fair-haired boy. “Now you don’t have to worry about her flying away,” he said.
Darnella lay at the bottom of her transparent prison, feeling a throbbing pain on her back where her wings had been. She bled very little, and the wounds would quickly heal, but a fairy’s wings never grow back. She put her face in her hands and cried with the realization that she would never fly again.
As the boys walked off, their prize in hand, a pair of dark green hands grabbed the tiny blue dress and a pair of deep brown, almost black, eyes peered at the footprints the teenagers left behind.
End Part 1
Copyright 2004 Dan C. Rinnert