Who I Want to Be

The Cavern

The universe is one large, empty grove. I walk through the forest in the dead of night, guided by faint and distant glimmers. Like molasses, my feet move, slowly and unassured. Everything is scary and dark and consuming. Twigs crack beneath my boots, their echoes rippling out into nothing. I perk up to every rustle, every wisp, every muted call, but nothing comes for me. Enveloped in darkness, I am entirely alone. I press onward.

Slowly but surely, the sparks grow. I have gone too far to accept that they may not be real - they are, in this moment, the most solid existence in the universe. They are more tangible than my friends, than Anna, than me. They are my world and my world is calling. It is whispering sweet words of love, of change, of acceptance. The words wrap around me like silk and I begin to forget who I am.

I look up once more and see a shape in the distance. As I move towards it, it fully forms. Little by little, it reveals itself, morphing into a cavern: a small stone mountain with a gaping entrance at the front. Identical to the one in my dreams. Inside it, little lights dance. I make my way forward, half expecting the dark to creep in, half expecting to wake up in bed, slimy and scared. But none of those things happen. I feel the entrance to the cavern as I reach it - incredibly smooth and solid. I take one last deep breath then step over the threshold. All at once, the lights disappear.

Suddenly, I am filled with fear. A deep, rumbling fright that devours my stomach. I want to go back, to go home. Not to Anna's house though; back to my real home, where my mother is waiting. Except I can't because she is gone. And I am lost deep in the woods, in complete emptiness. I crumple to my knees and begin to cry.

What's wrong, little one?

A high, gentle voice lifts out of the air.

Are you lost?

I search through the dark but see no one. Yet, I know they can see me. See through me.

"Yes," I reply to the voice.

Well that's no good. Let us help you find your way back home.

Then a single spark appears right before my eyes. I look up towards it. Now I can see a tiny person inside with a beautiful dress and delicate wings. A fairy. Mom's story was true, she had seen one in the woods that day.

Within moments, another fairy appears, and then another. They hover before me like beautiful angels.

Jen, whispers the one on the left, you have returned. Jen? I don't know who that is. I look at the excited smile on the fairy's face and wish I were Jen. But I am Gabrielle.

It has been so long, exclaims the fairy to my right. We have missed you so dearly.

Yes, we noticed you were back, so we signaled you. But you had not come, so we thought you no longer cared for us. They are so happy, I can't bring myself to tell them that I am not Jen. That I am not the person they love.

I am confused too. Those sparks, they weren't meant for me? If not, then why did I hear them beckon to me so strongly? How did they know my greatest fears?

Aster, Lily, can't you tell? The middle fairy approaches me; a warm tingle brushes my cheek. This is not Jennifer. The other fairies' excitement sinks. Tell us dear, what is your name? I look up at her loving smile and can't help but remember my mother. I shrink back nervously.

"Gabrielle."

Gabrielle, she repeats, what a lovely name. I am Azalea. She motions to her left, this is Aster, and this, she nods to her right, is Lily.

Pleased to meet you, Aster smiles. What has brought you to our home?

"I saw the lights," I say. "From the forest." Suddenly, everything is moving so fast that I'm struggling to keep up.

She saw us. Azi? Lily looks up at Azalea, who's deep in thought.

Gabrielle, dear, what is your mother's name?

"My mother?" Nothing is making sense.

Yes, your mother. Only those we seek can see us. That is how it has always been. Azalea looks deep into my eyes. But is there an exception to that rule. It is possible that descendants can also glimpse our lights, as they share their ancestors' blood. My heart is thumping deep in my body. It pumps blood through my veins, blood given to me by my mother. It cannot be true. I feel myself sink further into the gravity, the impossibility, of everything.

How about a middle name? Did your mother have one? Lily is closing in on me. I think back. Far, far back, to another childhood memory. I was running errands with my mother when she ran into an old friend. They chatted for a short while before we had to continue shopping. The friend called her by another name, one I hadn't heard before. Jen. My mother had been called Jen. Weakly, I sputter the name out loud.

"Jen." It echoes through the cave like a cruel taunt. Jen, Jen, Jen. It steals the air from my own lungs.

I feel nauseous all of a sudden. Nauseous and betrayed and scared. I did not know my mother. I mean of course I didn't - she'd died when I was seven - but I still thought all my memories of her were real. That as her child I innately understood her. Now I realize I was wrong. Scattered around this world are pieces of her I never knew, and probably never will, and that overwhelms me. I begin to cry again.

Oh no, honey. Azalea grows to my size and embraces me in the gentlest of hugs. She pats my head to console me in the same way my mother would. If it means anything, that exception is only partly how I could tell. Want to know the other way?

"What," I sob, my voice cracking. I must look so ugly right now, yet the fairies are still so kind.

You're the spitting image of your mother.

"Were you friends with her?" I'm searching to understand this.

The bestest, Lily pipes in. You should've seen us together.

Everyday after school. Aster grows life size and sits down by me and Azalea, quickly followed by Lily. My mother never told me this, that she knew these fairies. Suddenly, I want to know more, I want to know everything. I want to feel special.

"Tell me more." All three fairies smile sweetly.

She would meet us by the cave entrance, Aster comments, and we would play until dusk.

We would talk all the time - about everything, Lily adds.

Azalea holds me close as Lily and Aster begin to tell me stories of my mother. New ones that surprise me, because she is not the person I expected her to be. In their eyes my mother was smart and clumsy and naive and brave and brilliant. Everything they speak of her is filled with adoration. And that makes me happy. Because she was my mother, and my blood, and they loved her, which means they have to love me too.

By the time I leave it is already dawn. The sun rises through the shrubbery, beams of light pouring out across the forest floor. Everything is covered in a remarkable golden hue. I begin to make my way back to the house through this gold field. Somehow, I don't get lost. Perhaps Azalea is softly guiding me with caring hands.

I should be exhausted when I reach the old farm house. There should be a desperate desire to sleep, to pass the day quietly. But instead all I feel is excitement. I can't wait until tonight, when I can go back. I sneak up to my room and curl up in the covers. Everything is just rising, but I am already wide awake.