"Changeling" by Laura de Lange

Changeling - Chapter 1

I know I shouldn’t have. I know it’s illegal. But I was so desperate. The sorrow was unbearable, engulfing me, eating my heart from the inside. What else could I do? What other choices did I have? – Diary of Louisa Belcamp

Olivia sat with her tired legs folded up to her chest in a protective ball. She looked at the beautiful woods around her, seeming surprised that the moon was full and the stars were shining brightly through the canopy of overlapping twigs and leaves. Beneath her feet the fallen leaves were stirring restlessly in the soft, chilly breeze. She closed her eyes because to her troubled soul the sight of so much beauty and tranquillity was unbearable. Her eyes snapped open again almost immediately. For the moment her eyes had closed, the events of the past few weeks went flashing through her mind’s eye. Flashing dangerously. She sighed. She knew she was going to have to face up to those events sooner or later.

Walking down the corridor of her school in the Fairy-world Olivia just held one thought in her mind, repeating it as one would repeat a mantra.
You don’t know me, you don’t know me, you don’t know me, she thought, hardly glancing at the laughing faces around her. She gently tucked her dark brown hair behind her ears and walked on, hunched over so that she didn’t seem so bloody tall. Olivia sighed as Camellia stepped in front of her and she tried, unsuccessfully, to keep her mantra firmly in place.

“So, O Great one,” Camellia began, but could not finish her sentence because one of her sidekicks was giggling loudly at the emphasis on ‘great’. She rolled her eyes and continued the taunt.
“What did they teach you in the special class today?” Camellia asked, again placing emphasis on the word ‘special’.
Olivia said nothing, just looked down at her shoes. She was used to being teased about her lack of magical talent. She hoped that if she pretended she was no threat Camellia would leave her alone.
“You are SO pathetic, you do know that, don’t you?” Camellia asked as the bell rang to indicate that the next class was about to start. Olivia just nodded, she did know.

Olivia entered the class late and slipped into the nearest desk. She took out her books and glanced at her book bag. Another of Camellia’s taunts flashed in her memory.

Camellia had grabbed her bag and looked at the great amount of books.
“Such a pity you have NO talent. If you did, you would not be sitting in the theory class,” she sniggered and adjusted the almost empty bag over her shoulder. She dropped Olivia’s bag roughly on the floor causing an avalanche of books to spill onto the floor.
“Ooops, sorry. Clumsy me,” she said before turning to go to class.

Olivia’s face felt hot at the thought and she shifted in her seat, earning the curious looks of her two best friends, Helena and Sandra.
At break she told them of the morning’s encounter with Camellia. Just then Camellia strutted into the dining area and Helena and Sandra looked at her with barely contained glee.
“Oooh, Olivia, you’d better go and hide before the big, nasty teenage terror comes to get you!” they chortled and pretended to shiver with fear as Camellia walked past. They made Olivia laugh and feel better.

In a way Olivia found their non-concern comforting, it made her feel that Camellia wouldn’t really be able to do the things she threatened, she was just being her nasty self. They obviously weren’t afraid of Camellia or her “great and noble” Sanders family. But at night when she couldn’t sleep she heard those whispered and deeply meant threats and shivered. In those dark, lonely nights she also thought of my relationships with my friends. Being a circle of three friends has its pros and cons. There is always a friendly person to talk to, but if you need some one-on-one time with a particular friend, the other will feel left out. At the moment they were so wrapped up in each other that they didn’t even notice that they were snubbing her. They would just walk off and leave her behind and seem not to notice, nor care, that she was being left alone. But maybe they were doing this on purpose? Were they trying to send her a message? Sometimes she wondered how well they knew her.

“You’re not ugly, you’re just different,” said Olivia’s mom that afternoon when she heard the story of her daughter’s day. “You’ll see, everything will be fine tomorrow.” These two phrases seemed to be her mother’s mantra. She said them over and over again, as if she was trying to convince herself. Olivia just shrugged, hoping this was true.

The next day, in the History lesson all fairies shared, they were talking about the Human world. They were taught the same things as they have been taught since the first year in school: Humans are big, clumsy, non-magical, dangerous, violent etc. But this year the School decided the young Fairies were ready to be told something really important. Olivia can still remember the exact words in the textbook:

“The Human world is separated from our world by a thin magical layer. It can only be penetrated if a Fairy says the Words. This will create a passageway big enough to crawl through. ‘Humming’ as it was called, is dangerous to the individual passing through and the whole Fairy race because of the threat of discovery and capture. It was banned in 1776 and over the years this Word has been forgotten by all but the wisest Wisefaers. Another activity done by Fairies in ancient times, which was banned in 1770, is ‘Singing’. This is the act by which a sick or ugly Fairly (baby Fairy) was exchanged for a Human baby. This has a negative affect on both species and was promptly banned. The Words for ‘Singing’ have long been lost.”

It was a cold night and I pulled my cloak tighter around my still aching stomach. I wasn’t really aware of the heavy, dense pain but it still drained my strength like pulling a plug in a bathtub. I had been plodding along for most of the night, and I had to hurry if I was to be there by midnight. – Diary of Louisa Belcamp

Of course, Helena, Sandra and Olivia found the idea of ‘Singing’ very funny at that time. Who would want a human baby? They would be so ugly and clumsy, not to mention huge. The Fairly would have to be really, really, REALLY ugly for anybody to be that desperate. After a good laugh, in which all Olivia’s doubts about her friends disappeared, they forgot about it. The annual school dance was coming up and there was a lot of giggling about the boys they fancied. But Camellia did not forget that lesson. Soon her razor sharp brain thought of another way to torment Olivia: according to her, Olivia was a human.

After four day of ceaseless taunting, which included things like:

“I knew it, will you just look at the size of her” and

“If I was such an ugly human I would hide my face in a brown paper bag.”

Olivia decided to confront her.

“Come off it,” she told Camellia crossly, “You heard what Miss Strompsky said, it’s illegal and the Words are long forgotten.”

“Oh, I know there will always be disbelievers, and I understand if you are in denial, dearest Olivia Belcamp, but it all makes sense,” she cooed in her falsest, sweetest voice. “Your ugly colouring, your pathetic magic skills, it all leads to one explanation.”

“You are really pathetic.”

Never the less, Olivia found she couldn’t sleep that night. She tossed and turned and wondered a great many things. Finally, with a sigh, she sat up and lit her candle. She crept silently to her mother’s bedroom and watched her sleeping. Her mother looked so peaceful. How could you even think of blaming her when she lay so open and innocently? Olivia sighed again and silently shook her awake.

“Mmmmmm?” her mother murmured and sat up. “What’s wrong, Olivia?” she said surprised and anxious.

“I just want to talk to you,” Olivia mumbled, ashamed of waking and worrying her. “Mom, where did I come from?” she said quickly before her determination gave in.

“I thought we had talked about this. When a man and a woman …”

“No, no, not that. Was I adopted? Who is my father? How did I get here?” Olivia could only see a small section of her mother’s face, but even in the dim lighting she could see the face she loved and turned to for advice and support turn an ashen white. She had never known someone so fair could turn even whiter.

“Sweetie, I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to lie to you. It’s better if you don’t ask,” she whispered.

“No, Mum. I want to know.”

“It was a long time ago. I was young and carefree. I just wanted to have fun the whole time. I met your father. We were kindred spirits. We loved each other and a Fairly was the result. Then I did something I should never have done, but I don’t regret it for one second. And he left.”

There were huge holes in the story and she had a defiant attitude of one who did have regrets but over the years told herself that she didn’t. Olivia’s question was answered, but by the answers her mother didn’t give.

I reached the boundaries of the two worlds at five to twelve. I stood gasping for breath and at exactly twelve I said the Words. I took a furtive look around; a pointless exercise as no one lived within ten miles of this silent but menacing boundary, and I saw only open grassland bathed in a mysterious light. I took a deep breath and crawled through the small golden opening that had appeared at the bottom of the barrier, clutching at the bundle I had carried all the way there, lest it got damaged. – Diary of Louisa Belcamp

Over the next few weeks Olivia learnt to hate the civilisation she lived in. She looked at the world with different eyes. She hated the woman she had known as “mother” and the petty way she tried to pretend that everything was fine, but still tried to spoil Olivia into forgiving her. She hated the way everyone was wrapped only in themselves, not caring about the suffering going on around them. She hated the way people destroyed their habitat by littering and pollution because they thought it wasn’t their problem. She hated the way they scorned all who were different, despised and envied those better than themselves, scorned and degraded those below themselves. She hated the religion people used to hide behind saying that they were doing what was right, the way they were so superstitious. She hated their hypocrisy. She hated the way life was.

There are many possible ways the news could’ve spread. The most likely version is that Camellia had spread some rumours. She must’ve also enlisted the help of her father, a malicious and powerful man. Everyone had heard that Olivia was a human. Some didn’t believe it, some were sceptical, but all were wary. At school she was shunned in fear and horror. You really don’t know me, she thought miserably as people scuttled out of her way and avoided her eyes. Even Sandra and Helena were frightened, as if Olivia had an incurable, and highly contagious, disease. She grew up a lot in those two weeks. She grew more secure in herself and became more cynical. She became old in soul.

One night she heard it, the soft murmur of dozens of voices, the slight vibrations of more than seventy-five feet. She silently slid out of bed; she was already dressed, and got her rucksack. She slipped out of the back door and made her way up the grassy hillside and into the forest. As she reached the first row of trees she heard the screams of pain issuing from her mother’s throat. She froze in agony but then slowly she unfroze trudged on. When she was a safe distance into the woods, she turned around and stared in fascinated horror at the sight of the bright bonfire that had once been her house. She wondered if they had killed her mother first before setting fire to her.

The call of an owl brought her back to reality. She automatically crossed her fingers to counteract the single bird cry, which was seen as bad luck, and was then very annoyed with herself. Surely she was past the stage of believing in rubbish like that! But for now she had more pressing questions on her mind, the most important of which was: What was she going to do now?