The Changeling

On First Sight

Come away o human child 

To the waters and the wild 

With a faery hand in hand 

For the world is more full of suffering than you can understand 

The shrill chime of the alarm pierced my dream, jolting me awake. The familiar feeling of unease gripped my chest as I groggily fumbled for my phone, hitting the sound off, and I lay under the blanket of darkness, waiting for my racing heart to return to its normal pace. As my eyes became accustomed to the black which engulfed my surroundings, I allowed my eyes to locate and trace familiar shapes and patterns until the feeling passed. 

‘Deep breaths,” I muttered to myself, “deep breaths’. I heard bumping movement in the room to my left. s**t, I’d woken Gloria. Yellow light flooded under my door and it opened a c***k.

“Everything alright, honey?” Gloria cooed softly, keen not to wake the others. 

“All good, Gloria, sorry for waking you.” I was genuine in my apology. Gloria needed her sleep, the younger kids kept her busy and she was too old for them now. She didn’t move from the door - she was choosing her next words carefully, I could tell. 

“You are more than your past baby girl. Today is a celebration of your strength, your survival, not a reminder of what she did.” Her lilting voice was warm, soothing, familiar. I almost believed what she said. 

“I know, Gloria, thank you.” My voice sounded insincere even to my own ears. Another long silence. The c***k of yellow light remained four inches wide on the left hand wall of my room. I focused on the light, willing her to return to her room, to leave me to turn my thoughts over in my mind in peace. Her sharp intake of breath indicated she had more to say, but something stopped her.  

“Goodnight Gloria, sorry for waking you,” I prompted, and she took the hint. 

“Sleep well, we’ll chat in the morning,” she concluded. The door closed, the yellow light went out and I exhaled a breath I didn’t realise I’d been holding onto. I checked the time on my phone - 5:37am. I don’t know why I had set an early wake up alarm every year since I was 13, but I did. Why did I want to make the horrible day even longer? Something morbid in me liked to try and recall what I could of her face, to try and fabricate the events of that day in my head, to the point where I considered them memories, even though they were anything but. Truth be told, I only knew what she looked like from photos, I only knew what happened that day through newspaper articles I’d Googled and through the extreme PG version Gloria had filled me in on whenever I’d asked when I was very young. 

I took another deep breath to try and break the feeling of tension in my chest. My mind was clouded with questions that I didn’t really want answers to. My thoughts deliberately slid back to Gloria in an effort to blot out the rest.

She was worthy of her name. I’d looked it up when I was 8 or so - high renown or honour won by notable achievements. The definition of the word had stuck with me as I watched her shuffle through her days putting other people’s unwanted children before herself. She was only 61 - I’d seen her driving licence a few years back and was surprised. She looked older. Her body was worn out, and her limbs groaned in their movements. Even now, sleep had found her and her snores reverberated through the upstairs of the tiny 3 bed semi-detached house. 

I heard a cry in the room next door. It sounded like Finley. I listened out for movement in Gloria’s room - her sleep pounded on and I threw my legs over the side of the bed and fumbled out my bedroom door to get to the child before he cried any louder. He was standing up in his cot, arms waving in the dark. I tip-toed across the room, reluctant to disturb his older brother Craig, who slept soundly in the bed next to him. I picked him up to find he was wet. Gross. He snuggled into my chest and I gratefully accepted the brief moment of affection. I grabbed a change of trousers for him and crept out of the room and down the stairs. I changed Finley deftly - he needed a bath, but at least he was dry for now. I seated him on the floor, throwing the TV on low to distract him while I heated him some milk. I poured it into his bottle and scooped him into my arms, while he suckled gratefully. You know, I thought blithely, maybe I could understand why Gloria looked after children - it kept you busy and took your mind off your own things. 

An hour passed, and the house came alive. Finley had been more than content to lie on my chest with one eye on the brightly lit screen in front of him. Craig bounded into the room in a blaze of energy and noise and Finley sprang to life. He adored his brother - I wondered what that was like. Gloria’s heavy step ambled down the stairs. She walked through the room to the kitchen, kissing my head as she passed. 

“Thanks honey, I needed that lie on. Now go get ready for school!” She reprimanded. I groaned. She c****d an eyebrow and opened her mouth to speak, before I jumped up and went to get a shower. 

The steaming water sprayed down my face and body. I felt alive and the heaviness in my chest lifted for the first time that morning. I lathered my hair and closed my eyes as the soap ran down my face. Rinsing off, I stepped out and flung open the window. As the steam cleared I dried off my hair and dressed in my school uniform. The navy jumper and grey skirt combination hung heavily on my thin frame. I barely glanced at my face as I brushed my teeth and ran a comb through my long, almost black hair which fell to my waist. I grabbed my wallet, phone and school bag from my room. “s**t,” I said aloud, catching the time. Twenty minutes to get to school. I raced down the stairs, Gloria standing at the bottom with a slice of toast which I grabbed as I ran down the drive. 

“Alva, slow down!” She hollered. I turned and waved my hand in her direction to let her know I’d heard her. “And happy birthday!” She finished. 

Sweet seventeen. Christ.