Something Creative....Finally
So I haven't learned from my mistakes; I'm still a procrastinator. But sometimes it actually bums me out when I wait until the last minute to do something.
I had a paper due today. No big deal. In fact, this was a fun paper. It was a creative writing assignment. We were supposed to write a scene describing a new and unfamiliar place for the narrator, but we had to write it in the style of either Emily Bronte, Joseph Conrad, or Henry James. We even had example passages.
Well, when you tell me to be creative with writing, I go all out. I read the passages but didn't follow them one bit. I had decided to write something in my own style and then 'translate' it. Apparently, that was a really bad idea.
So I write my scene and I love it. I had Andi proofread it for me and help me with the descriptions and finished it last night. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to translate it. But I knew I wouldn't be able to even start something in that kind of style. I'm not very smart, and I can't write like them, that's just now how I work. I ended up only changing a few paragraphs to sound like somebody because I didn't want to make it too long (it was 4000 words when he only asked for four pages).
We were able to read them out loud to the class, and about 5 people did. What I heard amazed me. They were all extremely close to the authors, where mine was as far as could be. I knew right then that I just didn't grasp the assignment correctly. And now I have no idea what I'll get for the paper. It's creative, that's for sure, but it wasn't the assignment. And when you work hard for something like that, and then realize you got it all wrong, it kind of bums you out a bit. Enough to almost make me want to cry (but then I think I have PMS).
So, I guess we'll see what happens. In the meantime, I'm still really proud of what I came up with. And I want to share it with y'all. So here's my story if you choose to read it.
Jordan hated these parties. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, she wasn’t sure how she would make it through the night. It was held in a hotel ballroom and the west wall of the room was nothing but windows. Jordan stood in the corner staring at the moon drinking a glass of champagne, sighing to herself as emptied her glass. She steadied herself and plastered the most convincing smile she could. She set her glass on one the trays a waiter was carrying on her way to the hors d’oeuvre table. She would pass a couple dozen people and she couldn’t look like she had just come from her grandfather’s funeral.
It was a corporate party; which meant men in suits conferring about mundane statistics, whether it be about how well the stock market was doing or how their race horses were on a losing streak. It was all boring to her.
But then there were the women. Most of the women who attended these parties were the dates of the suits. They were all beautiful, of course, with their smooth blond hair and hazel eyes that were only pretty to look at, but completely blank; they contained no depth into who they really were. If they weren’t talking about the latest fashion in New York and Paris, they looked incredibly bored. They were most likely being paid to attend as the men they were with, well, let’s just say no woman would look twice at, until they pulled out their fat, overflowing wallets filled with crisp, green money and shiny credit cards.
Jordan would much rather be at home on her cushy, old, worn, but comfortable sofa reading a good book with some chocolate cake and ice cream in front of her, wearing her favorite pair of purple and black pajama pants and a tank top.
Unfortunately, since she had organized this party, she needed to stay to make sure the catering and music were taken care of. The company had given her a brand new assistant - for the wonderful work she’d been doing - who was supposed to help her at the party, but the girl was just out of school and all the pretty women and their condescending looks terrified her. No more than ten minutes into the start of the party, Jordan saw one woman scold the young girl for not having the right kind of champagne - the most expensive kind. The assistant stuttered an apology to the woman, mouthed “I can’t do this” to Jordan, and fled the room. No, Jordan was alone, as usual. The three-inch stiletto heels and tight chiffon dress made the hour and a half she’d been at the party seem much, much longer
She figured she could mingle with the guests for another hour or so, by then the caterers would be gone and the DJ would be paid, and then she could leave. Most of the guests would be drunk and wouldn’t notice her absence anyway. And then she could take something for the horrid headache that had started about half an hour ago. It was the third one this week; they seemed to be increasing in frequency, and intensity. She had been meaning to make an appointment to see a neurologist, but Jordan had hated doctors; they always had bad news.
When she was sixteen, the doctor told her and her dad that her mom had breast cancer and since it was a late stage, there wasn’t much hope of survival. At 25, she was told her dad needed triple bypass surgery on his heart. While waiting for her dad to come out of surgery, a different doctor came out to tell her that her father didn’t make it. And the doctors never showed much emotion when giving Jordan the terrible news. They would try to talk to her in a soothing voice, but when it was combined with technical jargon, it sounded as if they were saying nothing more than a daily weather report.
So she shrugged the headache off and tried to put it in the back of her mind.
Mingling with the guests never bothered her. She had a Master’s degree in Literature from Brown and she could keep up with any kind of conversation, even the ones about fashion. Her infinite vocabulary kept the guests on their toes constantly. How she ended up a party planner for a big corporation when all she wanted to do was write, she’ll never know; but it paid the bills.
The men were always impressed with her. She had always been told that she was much smarter than she looked; and she was always offended. In fact, if she left her hair down and given her make-up more than a few minutes thought, she could fit right along with the dates that were brought to these things.
Jordan’s beauty always seemed more natural than those women, however. She had reddish brown hair that, in just the right light, could shine with many hues of red, brown, and even some gold. She had high cheekbones and dark, almond-shaped hazel eyes with just a hint of green speckled in. Combine that with her tanned skin (natural, because she would never step foot in a tanning salon), and she had an exotic look that men drooled over and women envied. She did have to work for the body she had, but she never minded that. A few hours at the gym helped her escape from the mundane of everyday life. Plus, as long as she worked out, she felt no harm in eating full tubs of ice cream and heavily frosted chocolate cake.
Somehow, Jordan got stuck in a conversation with three businessmen who started arguing about how many units of whatever their company produced were sold. She made the excuse to powder her nose and turned around to see something glowing. Above one of the sconces on the light beige walls was what looked like a huge…bug. Thinking back to her biology class in high school, she was sure that green, glowing insects the size of a softball was not in the curriculum. But then in the blink of an eye, the bug was gone.
She shook it off and blamed the hallucination on her pounding headache. She decided to leave earlier than planned to get some much needed rest.
Jordan started making her way towards the kitchen, weaving through the multitude of guests; she swore she felt someone grab her behind. It was an unfortunate consequence of these parties when the suits got drunk and found it appropriate to touch women inappropriately . But as she was about to push through the kitchen door, she saw something she had not seen in twenty-two years.
***
Jordan was a military brat. Her dad was an Officer and Logistics Analyst for the Air Force. As such, he constantly got orders around the world, dragging her and her mom along. Jordan had seen Japan, Germany, and even Hawaii, not to mention just about the whole of the continental United States. Being an only child and always moving around, it was difficult to keep friends. She would occasionally get along with someone at her elementary, but couldn’t allow herself to get close to them because she knew she would be moving in a few months time.
So Jordan did what any normal, young girl would do; she created an imaginary friend.
His name was Nelvar and he was from a world called Kamari. It was a magical place filled with fairies, elves, and the most beautiful creatures that Jordan could only dream about. Nelvar was a Polif. The way Jordan understood it, that meant that he was about as tall as an eight year old, with big eyes and very long fingers and toes and hair that only grew about an inch off his head. If he were a female Polif, his hair would be about four inches long. He had blue hair, but it was random what color hair a Polif had. He knew a female who had purple, pink, and yellow hair. And if you couldn’t tell by the hair, the males wore a bright pink cloth, like a toga, and the females wore blue cloths. Jordan always thought it was funny because Nelvar wore pink.
Kamari was a very colorful place. And also peaceful. Nelvar always told Jordan that no one was ever lonely in Kamari. He would bring her flowers that were the brightest and most beautiful shades of purple, pink, orange, and blue she had ever seen, and doubted she would ever see again.
Jordan played with Nelvar until she was twelve years old when her mom told her that it was time she stop imagining people who weren’t real. Despite Jordan’s constant declarations that Nelvar was real, her mom took her to a doctor who gave Jordan some “magic medicine” that would “take her to another wonderful place.” But instead of taking her somewhere else, Jordan realized that they just made Nelvar disappear. When she realized it was the medicine, she immediately stopped taking them, but made sure her mom didn’t find out, but Nelvar never came back.
Eventually, Jordan went to high school and forgot completely about Nelvar and Kamari. As her dad went up in rank, she didn’t have to move around so much and she was able to make friends and even have a boyfriend or two.
So when she saw a flash of bright pink about eight feet to the right of the kitchen door, she had to do a double take. Jordan froze, eyes wide and her right arm outstretched, about to push open the door.
In the decades since she’d seen him last, Jordan had grown about a foot and matured physically and emotionally, but it seemed that Nelvar was exactly the same as he was when she was eight years old. He was just standing there with his arms crossed, looking at her sadly, as if he knew something she didn’t.
And then everything went black.
--------
Giggling.
Jordan heard lots of giggling from what sounded like many little girls.
She couldn’t see a thing it was so dark, until she realized that her eyes were closed. When she opened them, all she saw was a very bright light. Almost as if she was looking straight into the sun, but it didn’t hurting and it wasn’t hot. She didn’t even have to squint; she could see perfectly. She was looking up, into the sky, she figured, feeling as if she was lying on the ground.
The memory of being at a party in a fancy hotel with stuffy businessmen and their brainless dates fluttered through her brain; neither group would find it appropriate to giggle. And, she was pretty sure that it wasn’t this bright. And why was she lying on the floor?
A little disoriented, she got herself up to a standing position, only to sway and fall down again. There was more giggling when she did that.
She found her footing this time and was able to stand. What she saw made her gasp.
A group of about fifteen little boys and girls, dressed in cloths of bright blue and pink, and some with bright purple flowers in their multicolored hair.
“Are you okay?” A voice called to her from behind.
She turned. “Nelvar?” She stared incredulously at the little person in front of her, convinced she was dreaming.
“In the flesh,” he said and then flashed a huge smile showing all his abnormally large teeth. She had forgotten how big is teeth were.
“I’m dreaming right?” she asked.
“Erm…no, actually you’re not,” he grinned sheepishly at her. “Don’t you remember? I told you Kamari was real. I also told you that you would be able to visit one day.”
She laughed once without humor. “Right. You did say that, but I was eight. And I imagined you. You’re not real. You never were,” Jordan tried to reason, more with herself than with Nelvar.
“Oh, sweet Jordan,” Nelvar sighed. “I was never imagined. You were lonely and you needed a friend. I could feel that all the way over here. So I showed up, and I gave you the friendship you needed.”
“But how come nobody else could see you? I know my mom couldn’t. I heard her talking with the neighbors and they thought I was so cute to have an imaginary friend,” she said, thinking back to how frustrated her mom always was when Nelvar was mentioned. The neighbors thought it was cute, but her mom never did.
“They didn’t need to see me. They weren’t lonely,” Nelvar explained, as if it were the most obvious conclusion.
Jordan rubbed her eyes and scratched the top of her head. She was going crazy and she knew it. Except that she knew she should be anxious or scared or…something. But she had never been so at peace before. She felt like she was on a cloud, floating away from the stress and demands of her life, like her ties to the world were gone and she was liberated. She didn’t have a care in the world.
“How do you feel?” Nelvar asked.
“Um, free,” she said, sounding surprised.
Nelvar smiled and the other little people giggled again. She had forgotten they were there and they startled her. She turned around and saw the group of them giggling and pointing. A few in the back walked away and the others started to follow. They seemed to have lost their interest in her now.
“Where are they going?” Jordan asked Nelvar.
“You’re no longer of interest to them. We tend to lose attention quickly. You’re old news now.”
“Old news,” she muttered. “That sounds like most of the people who I work with.” As she spoke, she took a look around at her surroundings.
Her eyes went wide and she inhaled slowly. She couldn’t believe where she was. It was as if someone picked her up and placed her in a watercolor painting. Everything sort of ran together at the edges. She couldn’t tell where the ground ended and the trees began. And she saw the most brilliant colors she had ever seen.
Flowers were in patches on the ground, mixed into the soft, cushiony grass, and they climbed into the trees. There were colors she had never even seen before. Almost like red, brown, and yellow mixed together, plus others that couldn’t even be described they were so different. And beautiful.
Everything was just so beautiful. The sky wasn’t even a color, it was just bright, but had swirls of brightness all over, like it was the inspiration for Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night, and it lit everything up so you could see every detail of every spear of grass.
The grass itself felt like the most comfortable bed she had ever had the pleasure to lie on, but better. It was soft and if she wasn’t looking at it, she would have never guessed she was standing in grass; there was no prickly or itchy sensation at all. She couldn’t resist, she just had to lie down and move like she was making snow angels. She had to feel it on as much of her body as possible.
And then she was laughing. She couldn’t remember laughing so hard; not since she used to play with Nelvar as a little girl.
Nelvar was laughing too, and she realized that she should probably find out why she was here.
“Why am I here?” she asked, staring up at the swirls in the sky. “Not that I don’t think it’s beautiful, but what exactly am I doing here?”
“I think I can answer that.”
Jordan looked around for the voice that said that. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. She always thought Nelvar’s voice was cute. It was high-pitched, but pleasant. It sounded like little bells chiming and it always made her feel calm.
This voice was much more masculine and was incredibly smooth. It radiated authority and trust. Like you could trust anything that came from that voice and you would believe any lie as long as it sounded just like that.
But then she saw him walk around the tree directly in front of her. And he was nothing short of magnificent. He was tall, with long blond hair that looked like it went down to the middle of his back. His complexion was perfect, not too dark and not too pale. He had dark, piercing blue eyes and perfectly arched blond eyebrows. His nose was straight and long, and he had the most luscious and full lips she had ever seen. He had sharp cheekbones and a narrow jaw line. His ears were long and pointed at the top. And she longed to touch his skin. It looked amazingly smooth; she imagined it would be like touching the smooth marble that covered the floors of Heaven.
Then he smiled. And she had to gasp. His teeth shown so bright, she had to squint and wait for her eyes to adjust. It was as if the sky was bottled up and he swallowed it whole.
“I apologize. I forget humans are not used to the brightness. I will try to keep my teeth covered as much as possible,” he said, laughing quietly, but it sounded like he was singing to her.
“Wh-…who are you?” Jordan stammered. She felt her arms move to reach out to him, but brought them back before she humiliated herself.
“I am Gribelle. And I am an elf. You could say I am the…head elf of Kamari, so to speak,” he swung his arms out to gesture to the strange land she was in.
And then a massive lion stepped out from behind him. Except that it wasn’t a lion. It had an extra leg on each side and what looked like a horn coming out from its forehead. And it was incredibly shiny. Its fur probably felt like velvet, but softer; it certainly looked to be the texture of velvet. She wasn’t scared, instead she had the urge to reach out and touch the mammoth animal.
“And this is Unifroth. He is a streniath,” Gribelle gestured to the beast. And as if on cue, the animal grinned at Jordan, showing his massive teeth. It was so unexpected that she reflexively took a step back.
“Don’t worry, he is completely harmless,” Gribelle said as he stretched out his hands, palms out, trying to calm her. And just like any cat, the streniath purred and rubbed against the elf.
“I didn’t think he would hurt me. I was just taken off guard. He’s gorgeous,” she told the elf.
“Thank you.”
“Oh,” Jordan gasped for what seemed like the millionth time, because the words didn’t come out of Gribelle’s mouth, they came out of Unifroth’s. And Nelvar, Gribelle, and Unifroth started laughing. Gribelle forgot about his teeth again and Jordan had to close her eyes.
She opened them again when she felt something on her shoulder. It was the bug she saw on the sconce in the ballroom. A bug that had two legs, to arms, and looked just like a human with wings, but much smaller. It looked like a fairy.
“That little darling on your shoulder is Peralee. She is a fairy, but she does not have the ability to speak. Eventually you will learn how to understand what she is trying to say. She communicates by using what you would call Charades,” Gribelle told Jordan.
“Eventually? What do you mean eventually?” Jordan asked, forgetting about the tiny winged creature on her shoulder.
“You have a choice Jordan,” Gribelle said. Jordan could feel the confusion on her face.
“I understand your life on Earth has been very unpleasant. Unfortunately, it was about to get worse. On Earth, you have a brain tumor. It is the cause of the headaches you have been having. You would have gone to the doctor and he would have told you it is inoperable, and you would only have months to live. Months that would be spent in agony.” Jordan stepped back, an incredulous look on her face. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“We would like to spare you that pain. You have the opportunity to live out existence with us. Nelvar has spoken very highly of you for a long time. And we would love to get to know you better,” Gribelle explained.
Jordan blinked several times. She was looking at the elf like she didn’t understand a word he said; as if he was speaking a foreign language.
“I understand that this is very sudden and it is a lot to take in,” Gribelle continued, seeing the blank understanding in her face. “You have been brought to a place that you thought was only in your imagination. But it is, in fact, real. We are a peaceful and content nation. You will not suffer here and you will never be lonely,” Gribelle said as he clasped his hands in front of him.
A lot to take in, she thought. That’s an understatement.
She didn’t want to believe him, yet she was having a very hard time not believing him. She was being told that she could just leave life as she knew it, to live out existence in a fairy tale world, with talking animals and fairies that played Charades, or she would go back and suffer with a brain tumor.
“How…how do you know I have a brain tumor? They’re just headaches. I have a stressful job,” Jordan said, not sure what to make of everything the elf told her.
“It does not seem logical that I should know such things, but elves have been given the gift of sight. We see things others cannot,” the elf explained.
“Why should I believe you?” Jordan asked, trying to sound confident, but no matter what he said, she believed everything that came out of his mouth.
“Because you know I am right,” Gribelle smiled knowingly at her.
“That’s not really an answer,” she muttered and his smile turned into a smirk. “So, let me get this straight. I either go back to my life, but I will have a few months left because of a brain tumor.” Gribelle nodded and she continued, “Or, I can live here. And I will be happy?” Only the last part was a question. And Jordan could feel the fairy on her shoulder jumping up and down. Jordan looked at the small creature who was nodding animatedly and clapping her hands enthusiastically.
Gribelle grinned, “Peralee has answered that question for you.”
There didn’t seem to be much of a choice anymore; go with the perfect life. Except that things like that just don’t happen. Places like this don’t exist. She felt like her legs were going to give out. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was really crazy and probably needed more psychiatric help.
Jordan sat in the comforting grass and the fairy on her shoulder sat down, too. She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t waking up. But then what was wrong if she never did? Both her parents had passed away, and she didn’t have a significant other waiting for her. She doubted she even had any close friends who were really concerned for her, even if she really did have a brain tumor. So why not stay here? It seemed to be that she would be living in perfection.
So she decided that it would be okay if she was crazy. If crazy meant that she would be comfortable and get to stare at the most gorgeous person she had ever seen, and hoped that all elves looked like that, then she could do crazy.
***
Meanwhile, in the hotel ballroom: the paramedics had been called when Jordan fainted, and attempts at waking her were futile. They were working fervently over her with CPR and medicine they were injecting into her, but it was to no avail.
***
She looked up from where she was seated to stare at the perfect face in front of her. Gribelle had Unifroth and Nelvar on each side of him and Nelvar looked anxious, like he wanted to know her answer.
“I think I’ll stay,” Jordan decided as the two paramedics called the time of death for a corporate party planner, on the floor of a hotel ballroom.
I had a paper due today. No big deal. In fact, this was a fun paper. It was a creative writing assignment. We were supposed to write a scene describing a new and unfamiliar place for the narrator, but we had to write it in the style of either Emily Bronte, Joseph Conrad, or Henry James. We even had example passages.
Well, when you tell me to be creative with writing, I go all out. I read the passages but didn't follow them one bit. I had decided to write something in my own style and then 'translate' it. Apparently, that was a really bad idea.
So I write my scene and I love it. I had Andi proofread it for me and help me with the descriptions and finished it last night. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to translate it. But I knew I wouldn't be able to even start something in that kind of style. I'm not very smart, and I can't write like them, that's just now how I work. I ended up only changing a few paragraphs to sound like somebody because I didn't want to make it too long (it was 4000 words when he only asked for four pages).
We were able to read them out loud to the class, and about 5 people did. What I heard amazed me. They were all extremely close to the authors, where mine was as far as could be. I knew right then that I just didn't grasp the assignment correctly. And now I have no idea what I'll get for the paper. It's creative, that's for sure, but it wasn't the assignment. And when you work hard for something like that, and then realize you got it all wrong, it kind of bums you out a bit. Enough to almost make me want to cry (but then I think I have PMS).
So, I guess we'll see what happens. In the meantime, I'm still really proud of what I came up with. And I want to share it with y'all. So here's my story if you choose to read it.
Jordan hated these parties. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, she wasn’t sure how she would make it through the night. It was held in a hotel ballroom and the west wall of the room was nothing but windows. Jordan stood in the corner staring at the moon drinking a glass of champagne, sighing to herself as emptied her glass. She steadied herself and plastered the most convincing smile she could. She set her glass on one the trays a waiter was carrying on her way to the hors d’oeuvre table. She would pass a couple dozen people and she couldn’t look like she had just come from her grandfather’s funeral.
It was a corporate party; which meant men in suits conferring about mundane statistics, whether it be about how well the stock market was doing or how their race horses were on a losing streak. It was all boring to her.
But then there were the women. Most of the women who attended these parties were the dates of the suits. They were all beautiful, of course, with their smooth blond hair and hazel eyes that were only pretty to look at, but completely blank; they contained no depth into who they really were. If they weren’t talking about the latest fashion in New York and Paris, they looked incredibly bored. They were most likely being paid to attend as the men they were with, well, let’s just say no woman would look twice at, until they pulled out their fat, overflowing wallets filled with crisp, green money and shiny credit cards.
Jordan would much rather be at home on her cushy, old, worn, but comfortable sofa reading a good book with some chocolate cake and ice cream in front of her, wearing her favorite pair of purple and black pajama pants and a tank top.
Unfortunately, since she had organized this party, she needed to stay to make sure the catering and music were taken care of. The company had given her a brand new assistant - for the wonderful work she’d been doing - who was supposed to help her at the party, but the girl was just out of school and all the pretty women and their condescending looks terrified her. No more than ten minutes into the start of the party, Jordan saw one woman scold the young girl for not having the right kind of champagne - the most expensive kind. The assistant stuttered an apology to the woman, mouthed “I can’t do this” to Jordan, and fled the room. No, Jordan was alone, as usual. The three-inch stiletto heels and tight chiffon dress made the hour and a half she’d been at the party seem much, much longer
She figured she could mingle with the guests for another hour or so, by then the caterers would be gone and the DJ would be paid, and then she could leave. Most of the guests would be drunk and wouldn’t notice her absence anyway. And then she could take something for the horrid headache that had started about half an hour ago. It was the third one this week; they seemed to be increasing in frequency, and intensity. She had been meaning to make an appointment to see a neurologist, but Jordan had hated doctors; they always had bad news.
When she was sixteen, the doctor told her and her dad that her mom had breast cancer and since it was a late stage, there wasn’t much hope of survival. At 25, she was told her dad needed triple bypass surgery on his heart. While waiting for her dad to come out of surgery, a different doctor came out to tell her that her father didn’t make it. And the doctors never showed much emotion when giving Jordan the terrible news. They would try to talk to her in a soothing voice, but when it was combined with technical jargon, it sounded as if they were saying nothing more than a daily weather report.
So she shrugged the headache off and tried to put it in the back of her mind.
Mingling with the guests never bothered her. She had a Master’s degree in Literature from Brown and she could keep up with any kind of conversation, even the ones about fashion. Her infinite vocabulary kept the guests on their toes constantly. How she ended up a party planner for a big corporation when all she wanted to do was write, she’ll never know; but it paid the bills.
The men were always impressed with her. She had always been told that she was much smarter than she looked; and she was always offended. In fact, if she left her hair down and given her make-up more than a few minutes thought, she could fit right along with the dates that were brought to these things.
Jordan’s beauty always seemed more natural than those women, however. She had reddish brown hair that, in just the right light, could shine with many hues of red, brown, and even some gold. She had high cheekbones and dark, almond-shaped hazel eyes with just a hint of green speckled in. Combine that with her tanned skin (natural, because she would never step foot in a tanning salon), and she had an exotic look that men drooled over and women envied. She did have to work for the body she had, but she never minded that. A few hours at the gym helped her escape from the mundane of everyday life. Plus, as long as she worked out, she felt no harm in eating full tubs of ice cream and heavily frosted chocolate cake.
Somehow, Jordan got stuck in a conversation with three businessmen who started arguing about how many units of whatever their company produced were sold. She made the excuse to powder her nose and turned around to see something glowing. Above one of the sconces on the light beige walls was what looked like a huge…bug. Thinking back to her biology class in high school, she was sure that green, glowing insects the size of a softball was not in the curriculum. But then in the blink of an eye, the bug was gone.
She shook it off and blamed the hallucination on her pounding headache. She decided to leave earlier than planned to get some much needed rest.
Jordan started making her way towards the kitchen, weaving through the multitude of guests; she swore she felt someone grab her behind. It was an unfortunate consequence of these parties when the suits got drunk and found it appropriate to touch women inappropriately . But as she was about to push through the kitchen door, she saw something she had not seen in twenty-two years.
***
Jordan was a military brat. Her dad was an Officer and Logistics Analyst for the Air Force. As such, he constantly got orders around the world, dragging her and her mom along. Jordan had seen Japan, Germany, and even Hawaii, not to mention just about the whole of the continental United States. Being an only child and always moving around, it was difficult to keep friends. She would occasionally get along with someone at her elementary, but couldn’t allow herself to get close to them because she knew she would be moving in a few months time.
So Jordan did what any normal, young girl would do; she created an imaginary friend.
His name was Nelvar and he was from a world called Kamari. It was a magical place filled with fairies, elves, and the most beautiful creatures that Jordan could only dream about. Nelvar was a Polif. The way Jordan understood it, that meant that he was about as tall as an eight year old, with big eyes and very long fingers and toes and hair that only grew about an inch off his head. If he were a female Polif, his hair would be about four inches long. He had blue hair, but it was random what color hair a Polif had. He knew a female who had purple, pink, and yellow hair. And if you couldn’t tell by the hair, the males wore a bright pink cloth, like a toga, and the females wore blue cloths. Jordan always thought it was funny because Nelvar wore pink.
Kamari was a very colorful place. And also peaceful. Nelvar always told Jordan that no one was ever lonely in Kamari. He would bring her flowers that were the brightest and most beautiful shades of purple, pink, orange, and blue she had ever seen, and doubted she would ever see again.
Jordan played with Nelvar until she was twelve years old when her mom told her that it was time she stop imagining people who weren’t real. Despite Jordan’s constant declarations that Nelvar was real, her mom took her to a doctor who gave Jordan some “magic medicine” that would “take her to another wonderful place.” But instead of taking her somewhere else, Jordan realized that they just made Nelvar disappear. When she realized it was the medicine, she immediately stopped taking them, but made sure her mom didn’t find out, but Nelvar never came back.
Eventually, Jordan went to high school and forgot completely about Nelvar and Kamari. As her dad went up in rank, she didn’t have to move around so much and she was able to make friends and even have a boyfriend or two.
So when she saw a flash of bright pink about eight feet to the right of the kitchen door, she had to do a double take. Jordan froze, eyes wide and her right arm outstretched, about to push open the door.
In the decades since she’d seen him last, Jordan had grown about a foot and matured physically and emotionally, but it seemed that Nelvar was exactly the same as he was when she was eight years old. He was just standing there with his arms crossed, looking at her sadly, as if he knew something she didn’t.
And then everything went black.
--------
Giggling.
Jordan heard lots of giggling from what sounded like many little girls.
She couldn’t see a thing it was so dark, until she realized that her eyes were closed. When she opened them, all she saw was a very bright light. Almost as if she was looking straight into the sun, but it didn’t hurting and it wasn’t hot. She didn’t even have to squint; she could see perfectly. She was looking up, into the sky, she figured, feeling as if she was lying on the ground.
The memory of being at a party in a fancy hotel with stuffy businessmen and their brainless dates fluttered through her brain; neither group would find it appropriate to giggle. And, she was pretty sure that it wasn’t this bright. And why was she lying on the floor?
A little disoriented, she got herself up to a standing position, only to sway and fall down again. There was more giggling when she did that.
She found her footing this time and was able to stand. What she saw made her gasp.
A group of about fifteen little boys and girls, dressed in cloths of bright blue and pink, and some with bright purple flowers in their multicolored hair.
“Are you okay?” A voice called to her from behind.
She turned. “Nelvar?” She stared incredulously at the little person in front of her, convinced she was dreaming.
“In the flesh,” he said and then flashed a huge smile showing all his abnormally large teeth. She had forgotten how big is teeth were.
“I’m dreaming right?” she asked.
“Erm…no, actually you’re not,” he grinned sheepishly at her. “Don’t you remember? I told you Kamari was real. I also told you that you would be able to visit one day.”
She laughed once without humor. “Right. You did say that, but I was eight. And I imagined you. You’re not real. You never were,” Jordan tried to reason, more with herself than with Nelvar.
“Oh, sweet Jordan,” Nelvar sighed. “I was never imagined. You were lonely and you needed a friend. I could feel that all the way over here. So I showed up, and I gave you the friendship you needed.”
“But how come nobody else could see you? I know my mom couldn’t. I heard her talking with the neighbors and they thought I was so cute to have an imaginary friend,” she said, thinking back to how frustrated her mom always was when Nelvar was mentioned. The neighbors thought it was cute, but her mom never did.
“They didn’t need to see me. They weren’t lonely,” Nelvar explained, as if it were the most obvious conclusion.
Jordan rubbed her eyes and scratched the top of her head. She was going crazy and she knew it. Except that she knew she should be anxious or scared or…something. But she had never been so at peace before. She felt like she was on a cloud, floating away from the stress and demands of her life, like her ties to the world were gone and she was liberated. She didn’t have a care in the world.
“How do you feel?” Nelvar asked.
“Um, free,” she said, sounding surprised.
Nelvar smiled and the other little people giggled again. She had forgotten they were there and they startled her. She turned around and saw the group of them giggling and pointing. A few in the back walked away and the others started to follow. They seemed to have lost their interest in her now.
“Where are they going?” Jordan asked Nelvar.
“You’re no longer of interest to them. We tend to lose attention quickly. You’re old news now.”
“Old news,” she muttered. “That sounds like most of the people who I work with.” As she spoke, she took a look around at her surroundings.
Her eyes went wide and she inhaled slowly. She couldn’t believe where she was. It was as if someone picked her up and placed her in a watercolor painting. Everything sort of ran together at the edges. She couldn’t tell where the ground ended and the trees began. And she saw the most brilliant colors she had ever seen.
Flowers were in patches on the ground, mixed into the soft, cushiony grass, and they climbed into the trees. There were colors she had never even seen before. Almost like red, brown, and yellow mixed together, plus others that couldn’t even be described they were so different. And beautiful.
Everything was just so beautiful. The sky wasn’t even a color, it was just bright, but had swirls of brightness all over, like it was the inspiration for Vincent van Gogh’s Starry Night, and it lit everything up so you could see every detail of every spear of grass.
The grass itself felt like the most comfortable bed she had ever had the pleasure to lie on, but better. It was soft and if she wasn’t looking at it, she would have never guessed she was standing in grass; there was no prickly or itchy sensation at all. She couldn’t resist, she just had to lie down and move like she was making snow angels. She had to feel it on as much of her body as possible.
And then she was laughing. She couldn’t remember laughing so hard; not since she used to play with Nelvar as a little girl.
Nelvar was laughing too, and she realized that she should probably find out why she was here.
“Why am I here?” she asked, staring up at the swirls in the sky. “Not that I don’t think it’s beautiful, but what exactly am I doing here?”
“I think I can answer that.”
Jordan looked around for the voice that said that. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever heard. She always thought Nelvar’s voice was cute. It was high-pitched, but pleasant. It sounded like little bells chiming and it always made her feel calm.
This voice was much more masculine and was incredibly smooth. It radiated authority and trust. Like you could trust anything that came from that voice and you would believe any lie as long as it sounded just like that.
But then she saw him walk around the tree directly in front of her. And he was nothing short of magnificent. He was tall, with long blond hair that looked like it went down to the middle of his back. His complexion was perfect, not too dark and not too pale. He had dark, piercing blue eyes and perfectly arched blond eyebrows. His nose was straight and long, and he had the most luscious and full lips she had ever seen. He had sharp cheekbones and a narrow jaw line. His ears were long and pointed at the top. And she longed to touch his skin. It looked amazingly smooth; she imagined it would be like touching the smooth marble that covered the floors of Heaven.
Then he smiled. And she had to gasp. His teeth shown so bright, she had to squint and wait for her eyes to adjust. It was as if the sky was bottled up and he swallowed it whole.
“I apologize. I forget humans are not used to the brightness. I will try to keep my teeth covered as much as possible,” he said, laughing quietly, but it sounded like he was singing to her.
“Wh-…who are you?” Jordan stammered. She felt her arms move to reach out to him, but brought them back before she humiliated herself.
“I am Gribelle. And I am an elf. You could say I am the…head elf of Kamari, so to speak,” he swung his arms out to gesture to the strange land she was in.
And then a massive lion stepped out from behind him. Except that it wasn’t a lion. It had an extra leg on each side and what looked like a horn coming out from its forehead. And it was incredibly shiny. Its fur probably felt like velvet, but softer; it certainly looked to be the texture of velvet. She wasn’t scared, instead she had the urge to reach out and touch the mammoth animal.
“And this is Unifroth. He is a streniath,” Gribelle gestured to the beast. And as if on cue, the animal grinned at Jordan, showing his massive teeth. It was so unexpected that she reflexively took a step back.
“Don’t worry, he is completely harmless,” Gribelle said as he stretched out his hands, palms out, trying to calm her. And just like any cat, the streniath purred and rubbed against the elf.
“I didn’t think he would hurt me. I was just taken off guard. He’s gorgeous,” she told the elf.
“Thank you.”
“Oh,” Jordan gasped for what seemed like the millionth time, because the words didn’t come out of Gribelle’s mouth, they came out of Unifroth’s. And Nelvar, Gribelle, and Unifroth started laughing. Gribelle forgot about his teeth again and Jordan had to close her eyes.
She opened them again when she felt something on her shoulder. It was the bug she saw on the sconce in the ballroom. A bug that had two legs, to arms, and looked just like a human with wings, but much smaller. It looked like a fairy.
“That little darling on your shoulder is Peralee. She is a fairy, but she does not have the ability to speak. Eventually you will learn how to understand what she is trying to say. She communicates by using what you would call Charades,” Gribelle told Jordan.
“Eventually? What do you mean eventually?” Jordan asked, forgetting about the tiny winged creature on her shoulder.
“You have a choice Jordan,” Gribelle said. Jordan could feel the confusion on her face.
“I understand your life on Earth has been very unpleasant. Unfortunately, it was about to get worse. On Earth, you have a brain tumor. It is the cause of the headaches you have been having. You would have gone to the doctor and he would have told you it is inoperable, and you would only have months to live. Months that would be spent in agony.” Jordan stepped back, an incredulous look on her face. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“We would like to spare you that pain. You have the opportunity to live out existence with us. Nelvar has spoken very highly of you for a long time. And we would love to get to know you better,” Gribelle explained.
Jordan blinked several times. She was looking at the elf like she didn’t understand a word he said; as if he was speaking a foreign language.
“I understand that this is very sudden and it is a lot to take in,” Gribelle continued, seeing the blank understanding in her face. “You have been brought to a place that you thought was only in your imagination. But it is, in fact, real. We are a peaceful and content nation. You will not suffer here and you will never be lonely,” Gribelle said as he clasped his hands in front of him.
A lot to take in, she thought. That’s an understatement.
She didn’t want to believe him, yet she was having a very hard time not believing him. She was being told that she could just leave life as she knew it, to live out existence in a fairy tale world, with talking animals and fairies that played Charades, or she would go back and suffer with a brain tumor.
“How…how do you know I have a brain tumor? They’re just headaches. I have a stressful job,” Jordan said, not sure what to make of everything the elf told her.
“It does not seem logical that I should know such things, but elves have been given the gift of sight. We see things others cannot,” the elf explained.
“Why should I believe you?” Jordan asked, trying to sound confident, but no matter what he said, she believed everything that came out of his mouth.
“Because you know I am right,” Gribelle smiled knowingly at her.
“That’s not really an answer,” she muttered and his smile turned into a smirk. “So, let me get this straight. I either go back to my life, but I will have a few months left because of a brain tumor.” Gribelle nodded and she continued, “Or, I can live here. And I will be happy?” Only the last part was a question. And Jordan could feel the fairy on her shoulder jumping up and down. Jordan looked at the small creature who was nodding animatedly and clapping her hands enthusiastically.
Gribelle grinned, “Peralee has answered that question for you.”
There didn’t seem to be much of a choice anymore; go with the perfect life. Except that things like that just don’t happen. Places like this don’t exist. She felt like her legs were going to give out. If this wasn’t a dream, then she was really crazy and probably needed more psychiatric help.
Jordan sat in the comforting grass and the fairy on her shoulder sat down, too. She couldn’t understand why she wasn’t waking up. But then what was wrong if she never did? Both her parents had passed away, and she didn’t have a significant other waiting for her. She doubted she even had any close friends who were really concerned for her, even if she really did have a brain tumor. So why not stay here? It seemed to be that she would be living in perfection.
So she decided that it would be okay if she was crazy. If crazy meant that she would be comfortable and get to stare at the most gorgeous person she had ever seen, and hoped that all elves looked like that, then she could do crazy.
***
Meanwhile, in the hotel ballroom: the paramedics had been called when Jordan fainted, and attempts at waking her were futile. They were working fervently over her with CPR and medicine they were injecting into her, but it was to no avail.
***
She looked up from where she was seated to stare at the perfect face in front of her. Gribelle had Unifroth and Nelvar on each side of him and Nelvar looked anxious, like he wanted to know her answer.
“I think I’ll stay,” Jordan decided as the two paramedics called the time of death for a corporate party planner, on the floor of a hotel ballroom.