When I walk back to the reception, Amy is waiting for me in the corridor. I have tried to compose myself, but I have always been a terrible actress.
‘All done now, Ania, you are officially enrolled,’ she says cheerfully, giving me some papers. I look around nervously, but I don’t spot anyone bizarre in the corridor.
‘Thank you so much for that. I really appreciate it.’
‘No problem, the only thing is we have to do an introduction to War Studies because all the other modules were taken. I don't really want to enrol in this module as it sounds boring, but we haven't got any other choice,’’ she explains.
‘Great,’ I say in a flat tone, staring at the rest of Amy's choices, which look pretty good. Talking about the modules selection is the last thing on my mind.
‘Now we have to go to the library to get your card,’ says Amy.
‘Do we have to do this today?’
I want to get my library card, but I am too exhausted and know I won’t be able to cope with any more hallucinations today. I am still trying to convince myself that everything that is happening will stop eventually. However, I can't forget the exhilarating blue eyes, even though he is only in my imagination. He is too perfect to be real. Deep down, I am furious that I was not able to do anything when he was standing in front of me.
‘No, we don't have to do this today,’ Amy replies. ‘Are you not feeling well?’
‘I think I will go home to bed. I feel a bit dizzy.’
Amy is concerned and wants to walk me back to the house, but I assure her that I am fine. I have to face my fears alone. If the message is real and I am going to witness more, then I will have to deal with it on my own sooner or later. I persuade Amy to leave. Being outside makes me more anxious. I know that my hallucinations haven’t gone away, but I pay no attention to the bizarre looking individuals and rush to the main building to get a taxi. I am not prepared to take any more chances today.
‘Where are we going?’ asks the taxi driver, looking annoyed as I interrupt him reading a paper.
I give him the address. He looks at me with curiosity, as my house is within walking distance, but doesn’t make any kind of comment. When I arrive home, I go straight upstairs and lock the door to my room. The house seems to be empty and I have to lie down to enable the other parts of my brain to work again. I take the piece of paper from my pocket and look at it for a long while. Staring at the ceiling doesn't bring any new ideas or thoughts into my head either. I look at my laptop but change my mind instantly, wondering what exactly I would type into Google anyway. No one else seemed to notice the odd individuals that I was seeing today. Maybe the beautiful man that I saw for the first time in my dreams is real, but I am the only human who can see him. Maybe he is an angel. I am so exhausted after the short trip to the university that I have to rest; it's only after 1 o'clock but I feel so drained. Technically, I am seeing people, creatures that aren’t visible for anyone else. This isn’t possible; maybe I am still just imagining them, and after such a trauma this should be normal.
The exhaustion forces me to close my eyes and I fall asleep, forgetting about today’s events. When I open my eyes, it’s dark outside; it looks like I sleep right through the afternoon. My mobile phone is showing that it’s a few minutes after 2 in the morning. When my eyes get used to the surrounding darkness, I realise that I am not alone. Once again, there is someone else in the room and I am sure that this time I can’t be dreaming.
My stomach gives me an unpleasant lurch while I try to assess if what I am seeing is real. I need to go to the bathroom, but I am scared that he’ll disappear if I move. This is the moment that I have been waiting for, where I would know if all my previous visions were real. I am trying to think fast, planning what I am going to do next.
In the darkness, I get up and switch on the small lamp on the bedside table. My legs are numb. I suck the corner of my lips and look at him. This tall, numinous man is staring at me. I get an idea, and it is the only way to find out if he is really there. I walk to the table and take the paper scissors. I will see if pain will allow me to wake up and finally forget about all the delusions. In the back of my mind, I am certain that it's still a dream. I lift the scissors, determined to cut myself, when the man takes a step towards me. He lifts his hand and touches my wrist. A wave of current spreads through me and I inhale the smell of spearmint, cypress wood and bergamot.
The hesitation dissolves. My naked body is only covered by a scrappy old T-shirt and I can feel goose bumps all over my skin. His hair is in a mess and he looks anxious, staring at me as if he doesn't know how I will react. I am amazed at his otherworldly blue eyes, but I am doing everything that I can to bury my emotions inside me. I curse at myself for switching on the light as I blushed instantly when his hand touched mine. His skin is warm and soft. Deep down, I am glad that I am not crazy.
‘Why?’ he whispers, piercing me with his blue eyes, still keeping his hand on mine. After a few seconds, I realise that he asked me a question. I knit my eyebrows with confusion; my heart is still beating fast, unmistakably letting me know that the man in my room is attractive.
‘Why would you hurt yourself?’
He speaks slowly but firmly, with an odd accent that I can't recognise.
‘The pain would be an answer,’ I begin. ‘Am I still dreaming?’
The anxiety vanishes from his face when he smiles, revealing gleaming white teeth. I think he just realised that his hand was still touching mine because he shifts his body to the right, stepping back. I feel that I am blushing with embarrassment and I swear in my mind. Good-looking men tend to intimidate me.
‘You control your own dreams, but if you're looking for an answer, then it’s no,’ he replies, stroking his shiny hair with confidence. His every move is elegant and thoughtful; his voice is deep and peculiar. He confirms that I am not dreaming which in theory I should be glad of, but for some reason this shoots a jolt through my stomach.
‘Who are you?’ This is the only logical question that comes to my mind. He is still staring at me, looking fairly amused.
‘In your history, we have a lot of names: a Sprite, wee folk, people of peace, a fairy,’ he explains, pressing his lips into a smile. The self-assured tone is irritating me.
My mind registers what he is saying, but I stare at him uncomprehendingly, wondering if this stranger in my room really believes in those fairy tale stories. I clear my throat and sit down on the chair, trying to gather my thoughts.
‘You are trying to tell me that you are a fairy from the legends?’ I ask ironically, surprised by my high tone.
‘As you humans say, in every legend there is always a seed of truth,’ he answers, almost whispering. ‘As I could predict, you are astonished by the way I look.’
His responses don't convey any kind of explanation of why I am seeing him. Since I left the hospital I am convinced that my mind is playing tricks on me, but this is beyond my imagination. He is sure of himself and he knows he looks perfect, but I don't like the way he points that out. I blush again while his eyes meet mine and my heart starts dancing in my chest.
‘My mind cannot cope with this,’ I say and stare at the floor. I don't want to give him the satisfaction of intimidating me even further. His expression changes and his eyes narrow.
‘It's understandable. I cannot explain why you are able to see me, but it's worrying me. Your life will be in danger if any other Sprites know that you are able to recognise us,’ he says, looking deeply concerned. He’s analysing me with his deep gaze and it's making me feel nervous again, but I don't flush, determined to keep my eyes on his. I have a million questions, but I don't want to sound idiotic.
‘If you don’t mind, I need to go to the toilet, but I will be back in two seconds,’ I say and leave my room quickly. I try not to make it look obvious that I’m wondering whether he will actually be there when I come back.
Once in the bathroom, I look at the mirror, realising that I look dreadful. I
start to brush my hair, but I look at myself once again and I stop. Why make an effort? He isn't showing any interest in me; the last thing that I want to do is show him that I am adjusting my look for him. He is the most handsome looking man that I have ever seen, but I can pretend that he didn’t make an impression on me. Presumably, I am the only human that he has ever spoken to. I get the most gorgeous guy in my room, who no one else is aware of, and I am terrified.
When I walk back to the room, he is still standing in the same spot, looking at the books on my desk with interest. When I clear my throat, he doesn't turn around straight away. I give up my attempt to understand why he is here and why I am the one that is going crazy.
‘A few weeks ago I almost died,’ I say, not waiting for his reaction to me being back in the room.
‘I am deeply concerned about your new ability. I was nearby when you were attacked,’ he says unexpectedly, taking his eyes off the books.
‘And you did nothing?’
‘I am not here to prevent your future. You were not able to see me then and even if I had tried it wouldn’t have worked,’ he explains. He looks dejected and finally turns around, searching for my eyes. I am still standing by the door; somehow being away from him gives me more confidence.
‘That's too bad!’ I snap. ‘What exactly do you want?’
Suddenly I can feel my anger flowing around the room. I have had enough of his useless explanations, which don't answer any of my questions. He is gorgeous but overconfident. I am able to see him and presumably he can't change that. His expression reveals surprise and he lifts his eyebrows slightly.
‘You are the first human that I have ever spoken to. Of course, there has been incident in the past, but no one talks about it. I will explain more another time, but for now protect yourself by pretending that we don't exist.’ He adds in a firmer voice, ‘I can talk to you when nightfall or dawn approaches to avoid being discovered.’
‘This doesn’t make much sense,’ I say. I make a face but he vanishes, leaving me angry. I punch the wall with frustration; it hurts more than I expected. Who the hell does he think he is? He doesn't answer any of my questions and leaves without saying good-bye. I didn’t even have a chance to ask if he has a name. I switch off the light and fall onto the bed, wondering whether my life will ever go back to normal again.
Nothing here makes sense. Sprites don't exist in the real world, but the legends and stories have always been part of our world. Mum used to read fairy tales to me when I was young. No one believes in fairies nowadays and I was one of those people who didn't believe until today. I should be proud of myself for experiencing this. I am the first human that he has ever spoken to; this makes me feel special somehow and this whole new sensation is exciting.
I close my eyes with the hope that I will eventually fall asleep, as tomorrow I have lectures to attend. Likewise, I have to prepare myself for the challenge of seeing preternatural creatures from fairy tales from this day forward. A few weeks ago, my life was boring but normal; today I am convinced that it won't be normal again for a while.
A few hours later when I wake up I call Mum, ignoring a missed call from George. Mum doesn't answer. I assume that she is still working, so I text her to say that everything is all right and I am feeling much better.
George hasn’t shown any sign of interest in the past few weeks despite my relocation and recent attack. We had shared a few passionate nights together, but after that it's always the same. He vanishes for a few weeks, leaving me crying under my pillow and hating myself for falling for him again. I am his mistress who he always comes back to when he feels lonely.
My heart starts to beat faster when I think about George, but the feeling fades away quickly when my subconscious reminds me about the perfect Sprite who visited me a few hours ago. In this bright, early morning, my situation doesn't change; the meeting in the night still took place and I am still able to see creatures that don't exist. The handsome Sprite is striking, but he isn't a human and I have to be careful. The doctor said that I was close to death. I've often heard stories about people who saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but I don't recall having that experience while I was unconscious. I sincerely hope that my life will return to normality.
Taking a shower allows me to forget the abnormality and concentrate on the tasks ahead. My timetable shows me that Hollywood: Representation of American Culture is one of the first classes today. Amy is probably going to sleep late and we will be rushing to go out. My mobile starts ringing again. I am hoping that it is my mother, but unfortunately, the screen is showing a smiley picture of George. I don't answer. I wasn't thinking about him until this morning.
I go downstairs to make breakfast and switch on the TV. Around 9 o'clock, Amy appears in the living room looking half asleep, wearing her most colourful range of clothing. I rescue her with a cup of coffee and a few minutes later, we leave the house. On the street, I am expecting to see a familiar face, but surprisingly there is no sign of any unexpected creatures around at this time in the morning. The sun is shining; it appears that the rain lost the battle, but the temperature is cool. Somehow I feel hopeful that maybe I lost my ability during the night. My life is back on track apart from the morning phone call from the ex-boyfriend.
However, all the excitement and positive energy fade away when I see more Sprites on the street. It’s not as though they are following people, but they seem to be always there, watching and observing. I haven't noticed the Sprite that spoke to me yesterday. Walking through the streets where I am able to see creatures that don't exist makes me feel surreal and special. The walk through the park is challenging, as I have to pretend that I am not able to see anything extraordinary. Sometimes I am able to catch Sprites speaking to humans as if they were trying to broadcast a message to them; however, no one seems to notice their presence. Finally, after a fifteen-minute walk, we reach the university.
A familiar face distracts me from my deep thoughts; the handsome, proud Sprite that visited me last night is waiting outside the lecture theatre. I sigh, knowing that he is waiting for me. His eyes are following me, but I can't look at him. When Amy and I pass by he doesn't take his eyes off me, but I don't respond, pretending that he is not there. In my mind, I am doing everything I can to show that I am not aware of his presence. His companion has long, white, shiny hair and is a few inches shorter than the Sprite that I know. My wound is aching and I realise that I forgot to take my medication this morning.
I try to concentrate on the subject of the American dream and Hollywood films, but it is difficult not to stare at the striking looking men in the corner. The fascination takes over my entire mind. I am supposed to make notes, but I am drawing circles on my notepad thinking about the Sprites and how I ended up seeing what's forbidden. After the lecture, I phone Mum back; I have four missed calls from her. It takes me a few minutes to assure her that I am fine. She only just woke up after a long shift in the hospital. George called again, but I ignore his call.
‘How is your mum?’ asks Amy after I get off the phone.
‘She is all right. Still worrying about me,’ I reply, rolling my eyes. We are standing outside the lecture theatre. Our timetable is showing that we have an hour break before the next class.
‘Is there a café on campus?’ I ask Amy.
‘Yes, the building across the road. Do you want to go there?’
‘Yes, I would like to get some lunch,’ I answer. I look around nervously, but I don't spot anything unusual.
‘Cool, I’m just going to pop into the toilet to fix my hair,’ she says and vanishes quickly. Despite Amy’s character, I feel better with her company today; all the strange creatures that I have been seeing make me feel more and more uncomfortable.
The café is situated on the first floor opposite the Faraday building. After ten minutes in the queue, we manage to get a table. The Sprite that I met last night isn't anywhere near me and I am hoping that he won't appear soon. Amy orders a sandwich
for lunch and I get tomato pasta. We eat slowly while Amy is chatting about the next party that she wants to take me to. I am miles away; strangely I can't take my mind off the handsome creature that I met. He was right; throughout history, fairies had so many different names. Despite feeling overwhelmed by my new visitor, I am willing to get to know him. My subconscious keeps telling me that I can’t ignore the instant connection between us.
The hour passes quickly and soon we have to make our way to the next lecture. Amy seems to know where she is going. When I walk into the building, I notice the Sprite that I know; he is standing outside with few more people of peace, absorbed in discussion with a few Sprite women. I don't have a chance to take a closer look at them as Amy drags me inside.
I can't concentrate on the new lectures; the subject of war isn't my favourite, but the module is compulsory. Finally, after an hour I realise that the day’s classes are over. Amy vanishes to get a drink while I decide to wait for her outside. I have an opportunity to take a closer look at my Sprite, who is talking to a female fairy. She is stunning with the long, shiny, blonde hair that I have always desired and a perfectly shaped body. I stare at him for a long while until he turns his eyes on mine, feeling my gaze on him. I look away quickly, blushing with embarrassment. After a few minutes, I dare to stare at him again. He whispers something in her ear and she kisses him gently on the cheek. I turn around instantly, avoiding the intimate moment between them. My phone rings while I am trying to adjust to what I just witnessed. I look at the screen and I instantly regret that I have my mobile on me. It is George and this is the third phone call today. I answer, exhaling sharply.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi Ania, how are you?’ he begins in his usual flirty tone.
‘Good.’
‘I know I wasn’t there when you needed me the most, but I have to see you,’ he continues in a sweeter tone. The muscles in my stomach clench uncomfortably.
George would never say that he wants to see me, not unless he wants something from me. I raise my eyebrows with surprise, trying to figure out if he is serious.
‘What do you want?’ I ask harshly, still remembering the scene in London where he announced that it would be better if we stop seeing each other, as he needed to concentrate on his career. George is studying drama in London and always dreamt of becoming a film star. He took parts in a few unknown films, but this new role was the opportunity that he had been waiting for. He was another reason why I chose to move to Swansea; I believed that if I were far away from him, I would finally meet someone who would look after me.
‘Darling, I just heard what happened in Swansea and I have to apologise that I wasn't around.’
‘You were clear when I was leaving that you wouldn’t have time,’ I say resentfully.
‘I don't know what I was thinking back then. I miss you and I would like to come and see you.’
I look at my phone, wondering if I am really talking to my ex who had never shown any kind of feelings toward me. I had pictured this scene in my mind, knowing what I would say to him if he did call.
‘I will text you my address. Let me know when you want to come over.’
I almost bite my tongue. The words came out before I even considered it. I wanted to tell him not to call me ever again, but my heart was unable to cope, so instead I invited him over. I stare at my phone, wondering at what I had just done. My mother has never met him. We had fun together but had never admitted to any kind of feelings for each other. I fell for his charm and pride, yet every time I met him, I always ended up crying.
An hour later at home, Amy disappears in her room while I sit on the sofa downstairs and begin to wonder if I will ever be able to say no to George. I remember Gosia's words. The only way to get rid of George would be to find another man. The problem is that I’ve never had another man, never felt attracted to anyone else apart from arrogant George. The strong electric current that passed through my body when the Sprite touched me brought new and undiscovered emotions. I can no longer lie to myself; the man who isn't even a human has done something to me and I can't get him out of my head. The strong, pulsing pain alerts me that I have to take my medication.
5