Nahtaia: A Faery's Tale

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Whatever happened to a child's innocence? "He's just a boy," they said. "There's no harm in a crush," they said. But Nahty knew better. Her wings twitched at the boisterous mop of hair on his head. That gut-wrenching sense in the pit of her stomach appeared from the first moment she crossed paths with the babe, but no one would listen.

Little Willein Mason saw past Nahty's disguise and now she was trapped, the air in her glass-walled prison thinning which each passing moment. She watched as the rain pitter-pattered on the window pane that seems worlds away, waiting for the opportune moment of escape to arise.

Her ears perked at the hammering of footsteps on wood.

"He runs like a pack of harams," she muttered as her heart panged of homesickness.

The door flew open, revealing the tan little monster that managed to capture her. He locked the door behind him and rose bright, excited eyes to the faery in the jar that sat on his desk. Bright, evil, bratty, bug-eyed eyes.

I am going to ring that monster's neck when I get out of here, she promised herself, tiny fists clenched. She rose to her feet and and pounded the glass.

"Willy Mason, you release me right now!" she demanded, unaware that her voice was but a muffled squeak through the glass.

"You're still here," he said, tapping the glass and knocking her to her bottom with a squeal. "Good; wait until Terry and Kale see you. They'll have to believe me now."

Fear flashed in Nahtaia's eyes at the mention of the two. They were Willy's older siblings and even though they were human, they were Nahtaia's best friends. She couldn't get them involved with the faeries. Too much trouble would come of it; their life would be at stake.

She had to escape before Terry and Kale got home and Willy the rat would make that happen.

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