Fairytale Green

Kayla Silvers

For the people who have not found their fairytale yet, it is out there waiting for you. Keep fighting.

"He was her dark fairytale and

She was his twisted fantasy.

And together they made magic"

- F. Scott Fitzgerald

Chapter One

If my life was a fairy-tale, the birds would be singing, and the light would be shining through the windowpane.

I thought it was a load of shit.

My home at the first level of the apartments on Luther Street was not high enough for the birds to be chirping and there was no light source due to the other block of apartments across the road blocking the sun. The buildings were situated in a way that at mornings, the rising sun would peer through the window and ruin my plans to sleep until noon.

If my life was a coming-of-age movie, I would be trying on clothes at this moment in time to a nineties pop band.

My room was currently quieter than a graveyard and my clothes only consisted of two styles. The styles being graphic band tees or plain black ones.

Sometimes the colour of my room added to the overall shittiness of my life. The walls were sickeningly plain white. Not white as snow or as white as ice cream. I could not quite think of a way to describe the void of colour apart from miserable.

It was a colour that reflected how abandoned the apartment was.

A long-lengthened mirror hung on one of the plain white walls. Above that was a photo collage. Smiling back at me in one of the pictures was my freshman self and my best friend Lana.

It felt as if it was only yesterday that the photo was taken. The only evidence that it was an old photo was that my current green hair was nowhere to be found.

My best friend Lana looked the same, however.

She had always been beautiful with her long blonde hair and her rosy cheeks that decorated her porcelain skin in the form of two red circles. Her permanent blush and smile gave her a girl-next-door charm.

Lana and I had originally bonded over our lazy habits of watching trash television and watching life pass us by. Although, a massive difference between the two of us was that she was going places.

I imagined myself being her number one fan and right by her side when she finally would be scouted by a record labelling company. I imagined going to all of her tours when she decided to release one of her songs that she had written to the world.

It was that or I would rot in the four walls of my bedroom. I could always curl up with my books and hide away from the world.

A familiar voice was shouting from outside and it broke me out of the study of my room.

Starting at the photo had made me summon the song-writing devil.