Pixie Fit

I stared at my computer, and its blank screen. 

This year I was enrolled at Penn State for a humanities major, or to study people and how they work mentally. With a one-hundred point-end of the semester essay ahead of me, I wasn’t ready. I was flunking five of my classes, and this essay might make it six. Everybody told me I wasn’t ready for college; my parents, my teachers, my coaches, and even my best friend, Bailey, who left for North Carolina University to play soccer. Even I knew I wasn’t ready for college, I just wanted to start my life and prove them wrong. My old roommate, Michael, dropped out one month after school started, said it was too much for him, so now I’m getting a new roommate, who should be arriving tomorrow. 

I spun around on my office chair, a gift from my grandfather, and saw the clutter around my dorm. My essay would have to wait, my new roommate wouldn’t want to live like this. Could the cleaning have waited for the morning? Yes. It was already 11 pm and I was racing around the dorm, picking up crumpled papers of notes and drafts, candy wrappers, empty water bottles, and old tennis socks that wreaked sweat and grime. I opened my closet and grabbed my handy-dandy-handheld vacuum, and sucked up crumbs and dirt off of the counters, tables, and the couch. I reset the pillows and laid my blanket across it. It was 1:30 now, and I was so tired, I collapsed on the freshly clean couch, spooking my cat, causing it to run away.

The doorbell rang, and I sat up quickly, checking my watch for the time. “It’s 9:30” I told myself. “He’s here.” My roommate had arrived, and I had just woken up, my hair a mess, and my clothes dirty from yesterday’s scramble to clean. “Just a minute!” I called, rushing to my room to put on a fresh Tee, faded blue jeans, and my lace-up boots, which were in fact, not laced. I grabbed my hairbrush and ran to the door, frantically brushing all of the knots out of my wavy hair. I unlocked the door and opened it to find my new roommate, with suitcases of luggage behind him. By God he was beautiful, his brown eyes were so soft, and his hair fell perfectly to the left side, and through his tight shirt, you could see rock-hard abs. Then he smiled, his cheekbones protruding from the sides of his face, and his perfectly straight teeth shining in the hall’s light. “Are you Thomas?” I asked, wondering how a boy so… AMAZING could ever live with me. “Of course, and you are Jane?”

“Yes,” He knew my name; on the inside I squealed with delight. “Good, thought I was at the wrong dorm.” He spoke, eying up the room behind me. “Uh, Yes! Come in! I’ll show you your room!” I said nervously, trying not to stare at his face too much. I brought him into my dorm, showing him the kitchen, living space, and his bedroom. I helped him unpack, warning him about the loose handle on the closet, and wobbly legs on the dresser. “Thanks,” he said, “I have a delivery coming at 2, but I also take Astronomy with Professor Quinlin on Saturdays at 7.” 

“Okay, thanks, the only ‘extra’ thing I do is play for the school tennis team.” I added, wondering why anyone would take astronomy, and what would come in that delivery. “I also have a cat, Apollo if you would like to meet him.” 

“Cool!”

The day moved on, and we talked about our lives, and who we were, when I heard his stomach rumble. “Would you like lunch?” I questioned him, “I’ll make some sandwiches.” He nodded. Then the doorbell rang. “I think that's my delivery,” Thomas spoke, rising from his chair at the table to get the door. In came the delivery man, with a circular enclosure covered with a cloth. He wore a usual uniform, and worked for the UPS, wait, he worked for the MPS, but I wondered what that stood for. “Thanks man, although I don’t know when I’ll see ya again,” Thomas said, embracing his delivery man with a hug. They said their goodbyes, and Thomas left down the hall of our Dormitory to put the cloaked enclosure in his room.

“Thomas! Lunch!” I hollered, and out he came from his room for lunch. There was little conversation at lunch, and he ate rather quickly, leaving the crusts of his sandwich on his plate. “I have to go tend to my, uh, delivery, and then I must leave for Astronomy.” he declared, leaving for his room. As he left, I asked him what was even under that velvet cloak, and he responded with, “Your mind is too young and raw to know, and even if you were ready, I would surely lose my job at the MPS, I am sorry Jane, you cannot know.” 

“Alright,” I responded, filled with disappointment, but also with curiosity. He left, and the sun set outside. I crept into his room, and reached for the velvet cloth, unveiling it from a cage, and inside it were... fairies. There were three, one pale and skinny, with blond hair, the size of a pencil, the second, large and pudgy, with brown curls unrolling over her shoulders, and the third, with her eyes and hair both red, looked up and snarled at me, showing sharp, sharp teeth. I reached out and found a note attached to the cage, “My dearest Thomas, while you are traveling to the East coast, my love travels with you, and in these pixies, Clara, Ruby, and Tina, treat them with care, and stay safe, Love, Chrissy (High Order of the M.P.S. the Magical Postal Services)” What in the world could this mean. One, Thomas had a girlfriend, or even a wife, and I was crushed. Two, there were three pixies - magical creatures, sitting in front of me. Three, there was a magical society, and a High Order of a magic postal system. I opened the cage, and reached out for the blonde pixie, who I assumed to be Clara, but the Red-haired pixie zoomed out of the cage, laughing, exiting Thomas’s room. While Clara zoomed after her, Ruby sat in the cage, munching on a cookie, and a hamburger, and a milkshake, all pixie sized. 

I ran after Clara and Tina. As I entered the hall, pictures were loose, and some were fallen, and the tapestry was torn. I ran into the living room and saw Tina flying across the bookshelf, knocking every book, candle, and picture off, while Clara was trying to console her and calm her temper. “No, Clara, we were in that cage for 4 weeks, bouncing along in trucks and planes, my anger has been RISING, I am done waiting, my mischief starts now.” She ripped wires from the TV, and my computer, losing all of my stored notes and essays. She ripped pages from my notebooks, and destroyed my keyboard. Then she headed for the kitchen. I was too shocked to move, to try to stop her, I stood rooted in the ground, this time screaming on the inside. She opened the fridge and pushed everything out, glass shattering and food containers spilling. But as she moved on to the cabinets, the lock on the door jiggled. Thomas came into our Dorm Room, the place in total destruction, his face in awe. “What did you do, Jane? I told you you weren’t ready, I told you you weren’t supposed to see, what did you do?” 

“I - don’t - know.”