Fairies Don’t Exist (Or Do They?)

Stacey didn’t believe in fairies, from the Tooth Fairy to Tinkerbell. She’d have to be sick to believe that a speck of fairy dust existed. All she believed in was her own hobby. Studying trees. Her favourite ones were Squiggly Gums because they were white and that took away the thought of sparkly, colourful fairies. She would sit down for hours and write notes about trees, and sometimes even how lame fairies were. The reason Stacey didn’t like fairies was everyone teased her about believing in them. The only thing she could do was ditch her fairy dolls and move onto something that people didn't tease her about. That thing was trees.
“Mum!” Stacey shouted. “Where is my MAGNIFYING GLASS!” Stacey today was studying INSIDE a tree! She grabbed a magnifying glass and in a nanosecond was flying with excitement (not like a fairy flies though!) out the door. In the enormous squiggly tree forest was the biggest tree of all, she started cutting inside the tree. Something strange was going on. There was a smell of honey in the air and a mild spark flickering in the tree. You will never guess what it was…
A tiny flying object zoomed out pointing a small mossy stick at Stacey. Its eyes were agleam, its dress looked as if it was from a eucalyptus leaf. Many others flowed out like an out of control dam that just collapsed. They all wore fashionable gowns. They were sparkly and colourful. It all came to her. They were F-ff-fairies! It had to be a dream. A nightmare to be precise. She dropped her tools dramatically and they fell to the ground with a thump. ‘Hello’ said the biggest fairy. ‘Bonjour’ (hello) ‘hola’ (hello’) ‘hallo’ (hello) they all spoke different languages!!
Stacy almost felt like running away. Until she had a flashback. She remembered playing with her little fairy toys, making them fly by using her hands. She remembered trying to stay up all night waiting for the Tooth Fairy to come. Suddenly a wave of pure happiness flowed through her body, starting from her feet, flowing through her soul, making her head think this isn’t so crazy after all. She had been passionate about fairies half of her life, so why would she believe nasty comments from people trying to tell her that fairies don’t exist? She felt connected to these fairies more than anything.
“Únete a nosotros” one of the fairies said (Spanish for ‘join us’).
She suddenly felt speechless. “ME? Why ME!?” “Vous un vrai croyant des fees,” which is French for ‘you're a true believer of fairies’. Stacy's mind snapped. “YESSSSSSSSS!” she yelled out. But first I have tonnes of questions for you. The fairies rolled their eyes as if they knew she always asked questions. “First, why do you live in a tree?”
The Spanish fairy said, “La savia carga nuestros poderes!” which is Spanish for, ‘the sap charges our powers’. “Second, how many of you are there?” The English fairy said, “Oh this is just the royalty tree! The are lots more us! The rest are in the other trees!”
For ever more, the fairies and Stacy lived together, Stacy never once more believed any nasty or hurtful comments. Stacy truly loved fairies, way more than trees. So she loved living and playing under a squiggly tree with her shiny, winged friends.

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