1st 5 Pages May Workshop- Veile Rev 1

Name: Adam Veile

Genre: Middle Grade Fantasy

Title: The Big Fairy Tale

As Lucy Samsa yawned and blinked away her sleepiness, she heard a buzzing sound, like a giant bee swooping down behind her. She covered her head with her scrawny arms and dove to her bedroom floor. She normally didn't mind bugs, but if that thing was a bug it was the size of a bird. She scanned her room, sure that it was hiding somewhere, waiting to get her.

“Lucy!” her mother called from downstairs. “It’s 6:45! Your tiny hiney better be out of bed!”

“I need help with something!” Lucy yelled back. It wouldn’t do any good to tell them what. Her mom was terrified of bugs, and her dad would stroll in five minutes later to give the bug a chance to fly off on its own.

She heard no reply and searched the floor for a weapon, but the floor was clean. She deeply regretted listening when her mom told her to put her shoes away. Behind the bed skirt she found a pile of Legos, a couple of comic books in plastic sleeves, and her stuffed pink giraffe, the last of her stuffed animal collection.

“I’m sorry, Jeffy,” she said, grabbing the giraffe by the neck and holding him upside down like a club. "I still love you."

She wondered what she was dealing with. A monster wasp? A giant mosquito? No, it had to be something bigger. Maybe something she'd never heard of before. She poked her head above the bed, testing to see if anything would dive bomb her.

"Where are you?" she muttered. She noticed she'd left the window open overnight. Maybe it had flown away.

As she rose to her feet, giraffe in hand, she noticed a tingling sensation between her shoulder blades.

The thing was on her back.

She shrieked as she spun, brushing her hand across her shoulders and connecting with something. She looked at the carpet to see if she had knocked anything off and, finding nothing, craned her neck left and then right to see what was on her back.

What?! Lucy’s heart raced. She hurried to her closet and shoved her hanging clothes aside, the plastic hangers clacking together. There, in the mirror at the back of her closest, stood Lucy, but something wasn’t right.

Her hands trembled. What’s happened to me? Two small wings flicked back and forth on her back. Wings! They weren’t bird wings or even angel wings. They were a translucent cream color, pulsing with streaks of gold and blue. The wings spread, extending just inches beyond her shoulders, and her heart raced. They buzzed faster and faster until she could barely see them. Wind from the wings swirled her hair and rocked her hanging clothes.

It's a dream, she thought, and the wings calmed down. Of course, it's a dream. She'd felt terrible before she'd gone to bed, and she tossed and turned all night. She looked at the sweaty, crumpled cocoon of blankets she'd woken up in. All a dream. But then again, if she'd woken up, how could she be dreaming now?

"LUCY, BREAKFAST!" Her mom hollered. The china rattled in the cabinet as she stomped through the dining room. It sure didn't sound like a dream.

Lucy reached back and felt the wings, hoping they weren't real, but she could feel the pressure from her fingertips just the same as if she were touching any other part of her body. These wings were a part of her.

Maybe I can fly, she thought. Maybe this isn't so bad. Her face twitched as she concentrated on getting off the ground, but the wings jerked awkwardly, like her dad trying to dance. They weren't even in sync with each other. The left one flicked forward, while the right one looked like it was vibrating. She was nowhere close to flying.

“Lucy, please, I’m begging you!” Her mother was on the stairs now, coming toward Lucy’s room.

In a panic, Lucy tried to pull the wings off, which sent a bolt of pain through her shoulders. She tried to peel off her black tank top, but there was no way to get it over her wings. If she ever wanted the shirt off, she’d have to use scissors.

Mom can’t find out I’m some kind of mutant! Lucy told herself. Her mom got embarrassed when Lucy left the house without her hair combed or missed a layup in basketball. What would she think about this? 

Then, came a knock on the door.

“Don’t come in!” Lucy shouted to her mother. She knew right away it was the wrong thing to say. Of course her mother would be coming in now.

Lucy pushed on the left wing, and it easily folded across her back to her right hip like origami. When she let go it sprang back up. She grabbed a baggy purple sweater off the closet shelf and tried to jam it on. The knob to her bedroom door turned, but Lucy was stuck with a sweater over her head.

“Wait!” Lucy slammed her closet door shut, just as her mother opened her bedroom door.

“Lucy?” The floor creaked as her mother crossed the room.

Lucy yanked on the sweater, trying to force her wings down. The closet door swung open as Lucy was pulling the bottom of the sweater to her waist.

Lucy smiled sweetly at her mother, and her mother stared back with a curious look on her face.

Please don’t see the wings, please don’t see the wings, Lucy thought, but her mother asked, “Why are you standing in your closet in a winter sweater in the middle of September?”

“The Farmer’s Almanac said it’d be chilly today,” Lucy answered. She had no idea if that was true, but there was no way her mom would argue with The Farmer’s Almanac.

“At least you added some color to your wardrobe. You look so dreary in black and gray.” Her mom looked her over one more time, wearing a frown that Lucy knew well. "What do you think the other kids will think about this?" She twirled her hand in the general direction of Lucy's sweater.

Lucy shrugged. They would hate it, but that was the least of her worries.

Her mom shook her head as if there was no helping her. “I guess your grandma would have been happy to see you finally wearing one of the sweaters she gave you.”

“I was just waiting for the right time,” said Lucy. Her grandma said she had to wear sweaters because she was old and had cold bones, and Lucy always thought the right time for a sweater like this would be when she turned eighty or so.

“Well, let’s get moving. Your hair looks like a bird's nest.”

Only then did Lucy think about the horror of going to school with wings.