The Prophesy: Vi's House

By LaurieL

A beautiful faerie named Raynebow is sent to observe a young girl, Viola. When Vi was four years old she stumbled upon Raynebow when she catches the faerie in her dollhouse. Raynebow befriends Vi and they quickly became fast friends. Shortly after this event, Viola was in a terrible car accident, losing both parents and the use of her legs. Doct

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauretta Groom Publishing
• Release date: Jan 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9781960159410

Book preview

Chapter 1

M

y mother was the person who introduced me to faeries. She used to read stories to me each night. I would beg for books about them. They fascinated me and I would dream about seeing them. Mother said they were not real, but I did not want to believe her. I felt in my heart they actually existed. It was my dream to find one so I looked for them everywhere.

One day, I actually found one! It was so long ago when I was pretty young, between four and five years old and most of the time, I can still remember it. Sometimes when I think about it, the memory starts to fade. When that happens, I am no longer sure if it was real or just a made-up game in the mind of a child. I always took comfort in trying to remember though.

When it happened, the day was bright and sunny. Mother promised if I was good, she would take me to the park. I tried as hard as I could to be what she wanted and was overjoyed when she told me we could go after breakfast. To me, the park was the perfect place to go faerie hunting. There were plenty of places a faerie could hide and today was the day I would find one.

Just as Mother was going to get me ready, the phone rang and soon she was talking and laughing. As I watched her talk, I knew she was in the middle of a conversation. I knew what that meant. She could talk for hours. I was becoming impatient and irritated. If I could make enough noise, I could get her attention. It must have worked because she stopped talking and stared at me.

I suddenly did not like the look she was giving me. Mother asked me in a stern voice to be quiet. If I gave up now, it would take forever to go to the park. I tried to explain, but I didn’t sound as I wanted to. Mother was trying to deal with me calmly, but I just could not stop. She stomped her foot and told me to go to my room to wait.

I complained because I waited all morning to go! Mother excused herself for a minute and collected herself. She rubbed her forehead and sighed. Mother knew she needed to calm me down. You need to go pick a special toy for the park, was Mother’s suggestion. The idea was if I went to pick out a toy, it would sidetrack me long enough for mother to finish her phone call.

I thought about it for a minute and I smiled. If I could pick the perfect toy to take, maybe it would help me find a faerie. As I smiled at Mother, I turned and skipped off to my room. Mother went back to her conversation and knew she had more time.

My room was the first door down the hallway. It was filled with every toy a little girl could want. I looked around the room to find the perfect toy to take to the park. Not that I knew what I would pick, I only knew it had to be special. There were dolls, stuffed animals, books and puzzles. Nothing I could see would be special enough to attract a faerie. I had to think like a faerie.

All of a sudden, I got an idea. Faeries are small. Maybe there was something in my doll house that would attract one. I got down on my knees to look. I saw something hiding in the corner. Whatever that thing was, it was sparkling. I moved closer to see what it was. It was a tiny girl. She looked terrified. As I looked at her, I could see she was beautiful. She had long blonde hair that curled around her waist. Her emerald green eyes shined bright and she had porcelain skin. She had a dress on that looked like a soft material in the color of hunter green that fit her form beautifully. It also looked like she had tiny brown shoes. I whispered a hello as friendly as I could. I tried to make her more at ease and did not want to startle her any more than she already was.

When I leaned forward, I accidently bumped into the house. The movement made the tiny girl try to fly out of the dollhouse. She didn’t get far. She bumped into a cabinet in the house and fell to the floor. Now I could see she had wings and I knew she was a faerie. It was exciting to have found a real faerie. It was amazing because she looked like the pictures in the books Mother had read to me. She always insisted they were not real. This proved her wrong, I was so happy because I always wanted to believe in them. I would pretend that some of my dolls were faeries and now I wouldn’t have to do that anymore. My heart raced as I picked her up as gently as I could to see if she was hurt or not.

As I looked at her, I couldn’t see any damage. I thought one of her wings was bent, so I touched it to see if she could move it. I was holding her and smiling while humming to calm the tiny faerie. Not knowing if she would understand me or not, I said, My name is Viola, and I won’t hurt you. I just want to be sure you’re not hurt because of your fall.

The faerie looked at me and smiled. She seemed to understand me and knew she was not in any danger. She acted like she was trying to talk to me but all I could hear was bells. They sounded so pretty. I remembered I had heard them before and wondered if she was the source. Are you trying to tell me your name? I wish I could understand you, but how are you ringing those bells? They sure are pretty, I said.

First, the little faerie acted afraid. I was not sure why. After a while, she seemed to calm down. As the faerie started to flutter her wings, I could see she wasn’t hurt. It scared me because I did not want her to fly away. The faerie smiled and seemed to understand because she put her tiny arms up to try to calm me.

I smiled and whispered, Do you want to play? The faerie smiled and nodded and pointed in the dollhouse. I put the faerie in the house and started to set the furniture up. We started to play. I had a good time and started to laugh. The faerie was smiling as well, but seemed to not want me to be too loud.

I was thrilled to play with the little faerie. I knew she was delicate, like my tea pot. If I played too rough, I knew I would break the tiny faerie, and I did not want to do that. The faerie and I continued to play and we were having fun when the faerie heard my mother’s footsteps coming closer. The faerie looked alarmed, then she waved to me. I thought this was strange, because I didn’t know what she meant. She tried to say goodbye to me, but the door knob was already turning. Just before the bedroom door opened, the faerie smiled at me and was gone in the blink of an eye.

I was instantly sad because I didn’t really get time to say goodbye and didn’t understand why the tiny faerie left so suddenly. I tried to tell mother, but I didn’t know the right words and mother didn’t believe me, anyway. She just thought it was a game I made up. As disappointed as I was, I never wanted to forget the faerie.

I just never realized how the tiny faerie was connected to me. If I could have foreseen what would happen and what I would become, I would have maybe understood.

My life was good until the day of the accident. The memories I have before my accident are mostly clear, but some are foggy, kind of like a dream. Even my faerie memory is a bit clouded. Sometimes I am not sure if it was even real like I wanted it to be. I think it was because I was so young when it happened. Now, at 12 years old, l think more like an adult. The company I had to keep was more adults than children. Even the books I read are usually adult books and magazines to know more about how life is supposed to be. To me, life was cruel.

Taking my legs and my family is the cruelest that I know of. I needed to know life wasn’t supposed to be like this. Sometimes I sit and think about my life and how I ended up in this condition. It is sometimes hard for me to remember everything. There are others who think I repress some memories because it is too painful. Either way, I hold on to what I remember, as these memories keep me sane in such an insane world.

I remember that day the accident happened. I was quite young, almost five years of age, a few months after I discovered the faerie. My mother got me ready for a trip. She sang as she dressed me and packed what we needed. Mother would hold up my dresses one by one to see which one I wanted to take. The dress had to be either pink or blue and had to dance when I twirled around. It was so much fun packing. She laughed at the silly face I would make every time she would pick a dress, I thought was ugly. We were waiting for my father to come home and pick us up. We had to be bright and shiny and ready for an adventure; I heard Mother say.

I was told my parents were very well-off years after the accident. Father was a businessman and worked for a huge company. I do remember him saying he was almost at the top, not that I understood what it meant at the time. He would talk about his new corner office, which was going to happen soon. My mother always stayed home taking care of me, our house, running errands and shopping. She almost always took me with her. I loved to go along and tried to be on my best behavior that I could.

Sometimes Aunt Agatha came over to stay with me when my parents had to go to an office function. Aunt Agatha was not really related. She was a very close friend of my mother’s. They grew up together and were inseparable. Agatha was a part of my life. My parents trusted her wholeheartedly. She seemed to always be around. Through the good times and the bad. She was a trusted friend who became a close family member.

Another thing I remember is always hearing little bells. I used to run around the house looking for them and saying, ell, ell because I didn’t quite have my B sound down yet. The sound was something I loved to hear, and they always got my attention. I remember seeing little sparkles that no one else seemed to notice. I remembered the little faerie I played with and I was always pointing to some area where I saw them last. My mother would ask, Did you see the sunshine? and laughed it off. I don’t think she paid too much attention to it. She just thought it was just the imagination of a child. As time passed, and I got older the faerie memory faded into a dream. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not anymore.

This trip we were getting ready for was a special occasion. My father said he wanted to go celebrate with his two favorite girls. Although I don’t remember what we were celebrating, I remember being quite delighted! My mother’s happiness was infectious. The more she sang and laughed, the more excited I got. I even remember trying to help pack, even though I probably was not much help. Mother was so good with me she would pick me up, twirl me around, hug and kiss me. We had such fun, I giggled and laughed until my sides hurt.

I could hardly contain myself when Father finally walked through the door hollering, We need to go. Are my girls ready for our wonderful adventure? The bus is leaving. Get a move on! He said this with a huge smile, for he always loved to tease Mother about being late for her own funeral. I remember him kissing me as he buckled my seat into the taxi, saying, This is a trip for you to remember my love!

As we were driven away from our house, I was thrilled. Mother and Father were so happy. I couldn’t imagine life being better. I was the luckiest little girl ever. Our adventure was just beginning, and I couldn’t wait to see what it all meant. I was just happy because they were happy and because I kept hearing my bells ring.

The accident happened when we were on the way to the airport. Our taxi was driving through an intersection when a truck sped through a red light. The truck tore through the side my father was on and went over the trunk of the taxi. My mother was sitting next to him, holding his hand.

After I was old enough to ask about what had happened, I was told my parents were killed instantly. For me, the seat belt held, but the damage done to my legs and lower spine would never heal. The nerve damage was too great. I would never walk again.

I was told I wasn’t allowed to be at the funeral. I was not well enough and I believe I was thought to be too young, anyway. An infection had set in, and for a long time, doctors did not know if I would live or not. I am not sure at that time if I even cared. All I knew was I was in horrible pain. At first, I couldn’t understand why Mother and Father did not come to see me. Surely, they would come to take this away and make me better. I begged to see them over and over, but they never came.

It was a long time before I could understand what happened. My young mind just did not want to accept I was alone. Since that horrible day, and from the time I could understand what happened, there has been a hole in my heart that feels like it will never be filled. The only thing that makes me smile is when I would hear my bells ring. At least they did not leave me.

My parents did not have any relatives left, and because of my father’s business sense, he had provided for me in case of his passing. There was a part in there in case my mother too had passed. I was told everything which was theirs was now mine. Since no one else related had surfaced, the court approved the guardian my father specified.

Aunt Agatha was now in charge of my care. She had to report to the courts to prove I was cared for properly and funds were not abused. I did not have to leave our home, but now it was not our home. It was my prison, for home is where your heart is and mine was broken. I was well cared for. I had everything medical that I needed. If I wanted anything, all I had to do was tell Aunt Agatha and she would see that I got it. The bad part was, I really didn’t need material items. I needed other stuff money could not buy. I needed a friend.

Everyone that came near me was paid to be there. They seemed sincere, but I always felt I was just a job, a paycheck to them. The ones that really tried to care did not fool me because I got so good at watching people, I could tell the difference. Oh, they were nice enough, but there was always something missing. I was always looking for someone to talk to, laugh with, cry with, but they either didn’t have the time or didn’t seem to care. If someone acted like they did care, I always caught the pity look when they thought I wasn’t watching. After a while, I quit trying. I let them go about their duties and waited to be alone. Once I was alone, I would let my mind take over. For even if my legs didn’t work, my mind did.

Because of the infection and other complications, I was not allowed outside by myself. The doctors felt it was unhealthy for me to be outdoors at all. Anything floating in the air was bad for me; even the slightest chill could make me ill. When I was alone, I tried to go out by myself. I would wheel myself outside when no one was home. It was wonderful, and I loved to be outside. I took advantage of being in control of myself. 

I got out about three times before I got sick. Actually, after the first time, I really felt bad, but I hid it because I wanted out so badly. I knew if they found out, they would stop me. I even felt I would get better before they noticed. But I got so sick, I couldn’t hide it anymore and the truth came out. When I was questioned about how I got sick, they didn’t like what I had done. I got the third degree about the dangers to my health. They took the ramp away to keep me in when I was by myself.

It finally came to where I only went out when I had a doctor’s appointment. Sometimes it would be every couple of weeks, sometimes it would be once a month. My fevers came and went anyway, but they were not as bad as when I went outside for any period. 

So, it became law, no going outside for any longer than I had to. When I go out, they make me wear a mask. They even frown when I open a window for the fresh air. I have an air purifier next to my window, so I sneak it open when no one is with me. I just have to remember to close it before Aunt Agatha comes home, or I would not hear the end for a while. They may even start locking my windows. I would not want that.

The doctors change my medications quite regularly, always looking for that one that would work, to help me feel better, stay healthy and take the pain away. I have little hope they will find it because the pills most always seem to either make me feel groggy or upset to my stomach. A couple gave me such a headache, I had to refuse to take them. They insisted I try them to see if I would adjust to it, but when something makes your head hurt, I knew it was bad for me. I wouldn’t take it. I would have to complain, which I did not like doing at all.

I have a good doctor now that listens to me, but in the beginning, I did not. They never asked me my opinion and because I was too young to know I could speak up. It actually took me quite a while to realize how I felt had a lot to do with those funny pills they always made me take. Once I had this figured out, I found my voice and insisted they listen. I am an old hat at it now and like I said; my doctor now listens to me.

I seemed to always be sad and depressed. There was just no joy in my life. I would sit for hours and stare out the window. Of course, Aunt Agatha has taken me to see psychologists because she was worried about me, but I have since learned the right things to say to take care of these worries.

It didn’t take me long to realize I did not want those kinds of doctors trying to poke around in my head. Maybe I am crazy, but it is my mind, my crazy. I created it; I don’t need anyone judging it and trying to fix me when I know it is not possible given how I am. The most important part shouldn’t be fixed, anyway.

Since I became old enough to be alone, I am by myself now between six to eight hours a day. I have been home-schooled with tutors for as long as I can remember. Doctors were afraid I would pick up germs from a regular school. I could not even try going for fear of me getting a fever or worse. My tutors even had to sterilize themselves and sometimes even wear a mask to teach me.

As I grew, my resistance got a little stronger but was always a worry. It wasn’t long before computers and online schools took over to diminish the threat. Now I work on my studies for a few hours each morning and with the internet, there is little reason for an actual