I was never one to believe in happily ever after, once upon a time or wishing upon shooting stars. Then, when I least expected it, I woke up in a fairy tale land where people believed that dreams could come true. It was there I realized childhood dreams should become a reality.

Lemon drop trees sprouted out of ever corner as pink tinted lilies and cobalt forget-me-not’s blossomed in every nook and cranny. Honey suckles and morning glories twisted around everything they could get their vines around. The petals from all these flowers swept the streets like brightly fallen warriors, fluttering around in the pale breeze. This place smeled divine and it reminded me of my Nana’s house. I felt a pang of remembrance as my stomach clenched at the thought. My Nana had been the one that believed in all this.

“Xera…” the wind seemed to whisper, as my peacock tipped hair fanned out.

“What do you want?” I demanded hotly. People suddenly began appearing from those gingerbread houses, whispering breathlessly. I then tripped, landing on a soft bed of dew and mourning hearts. “Why am I here? I don’t believe in this stuff anymore!” I cried, burying my face in the overpowering scent that kept reminding me of Nana.

“But you used to,” was the soft reply I heard. My head smoothly lifted, bits of flowers and grass clinging to my hair. “We brought you here because you’re forgetting.”

“But you’re not real…” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut. “Nana died believing in you! She said you’d come for her, but you never came!”

“We did come for her… but she gave up on us before we could reach her. She stopped believing,” the sweet voice continued, his tone engulfed in sorrow. His eyes were like emeralds. He had dark Persian hair, tipped with lavender and tangerine. He would have looked completely human if it hadn't been for the slight sea green tint he had to his flesh and the pointed ears that stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Nana would never doubt you! She always told me to never stop believing!" I suddenly stopped, my anger slightly startled as the realization dawned on me. "That's why I stopped. When she stopped, I did too."

"We know," he replied, lifting me from the ground like an infant. He smelt like dreams and memories.

Bubbles began to materialize, showing pictures of me when I was five. I wanted to be a ballerina so badly, but according to the teacher I didn't have the legs, so my dreams crashed and burned.

I stopped believing in my dream that day. I gave up. My Nana started to get sick around that time. Even though I went to her everyday, she never got better. We gathered all sorts of herbs to make special drinks for her, but she only got worse. She had told me that at night the pixies were coming for her to take her away.

She told me to never stop believing, but when I saw her hopes die, mine did too. Her death combined with the ballerina incident completely turned me off from believing in anything out of the ordinary.

"She told you to believe in us and yourself. Why can't you?" he whispered. "We are real Xera. Stop doubting what is true."

With that, he let go of me and I began to fall. I fell into a sea of ebony and I awoke screaming. Cold sweat drenched my clothing and I knew from the very depths of my soul it wasn't a mere dream.

It was then that I realized I had two options in front of me. One was to ignore what had just happen to me. The other was to go out and live that dream I had been criticized out of accomplishing. Both had consequences that would affect my future, it was up to me to decide what they would be.

So I chose. Now, it was my first recital. I had gotten the lead. The teacher had told me that I danced with my heart and that made me truly spectacular.

They began calling my name as a makeup artist sprinkled glitter on my face. I was playing a pixie. I was so grateful to them. My way of thanking them was dancing with everything I had in me. I danced for the fairies, my Nana, but more importantly for myself. I had done it. I was living out my dream.

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