A dense fog blanketed the low valleys, hiding the river banks that cut through the sprawling land. It was a still dawn, and the slowly rising sun struggled to shine through. She stood on the terrace with a navy wool coat draped over her shoulders and worn walking boots, keeping her toes safe from the crisp air. 

The way the moonlight streams between buildings and illuminates a small section of the still pool nearby is idyllic. Steam from the hot tub soaks into my hair, saturating me in the strong scent of chlorine and mascara runs from the moist air. The lamppost only lights up one side of your face and the smile that flits at the corners of your mouth. That smile is perfect. I live for that smile. Goosebumps prickle my shoulders and I completely submerge myself under the water. Heat burns my face more than I thought it would; I can feel my cheeks turning bright red. Waves slosh around the edges when I break the surface again. You catch me watching the way the water laps at your muscles, the water making your smooth skin look flawless.

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What do you think of when you hear the words fae or faerie? Let me guess—you just thought of a tiny, pocket-sized, glowing, winged person. With a wand. And lots of glitter. We’re not like Aurora’s fairies where each of us only dresses in one particular color. How impractical is that? No. We fae blend into society much easier than those whimsical ‘fairies’ do. We don’t turn into light-filled orbs that float through the air. We shapeshift to blend in and walk among the mortal folk. We’re much more common than you’ve been taught to believe.

Why are doctor's offices so white, she wondered. To prove it was sterile? As if the strong disinfectant stinging her nose hairs wouldn’t be enough. She sat in the vinyl-covered chair that was for patients and let her eyes move from one labeled cabinet to the next; gloves, needles, patient robes, the list went on to words she wasn’t sure what they meant.

It was late in the evening and a chilly breeze rattled through his bones. He was rushing home from the corner store with a bag of groceries with his eyes on his feet, making sure he didn’t slip and fall. He should have looked up, but he didn’t. That’s when his body slammed into another, softer body and rebounded backward.

They will find no blood because there was none spilt when she died. It had been an allergic reaction and that is what the police will think. By the time they even utter the word “murder,” I’ll be long gone—by the time anyone finds her body, I’ll be long gone. Not that it mattered. There was no way to prove it was murder. It sincerely looked like an accident.

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The rain was steady; a persistent tip-tapping of water slammed through forest branches and collected on the earthen floor. Everything was green with life and slicked with moisture. Her uncalloused, bare feet thudded and sliding on the uneven ground. Sharp edges jabbed into soft flesh and she yearned to stop. But she couldn’t.

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Aisha couldn’t remember how she got here. All she knew was the inky night sky, clouds blotting out light from the stars, and the all too present silence. She patted the ground around her with outstretched palms, searching for her glasses on damp dirt stirring a moist, earthen scent that filled her nostrils. The absence of them pressing down her nose was stark and worrisome. Although Aisha wasn’t blind without them, everything would be a little fuzzy around the edges.