There was a boy who was lost in a forest. Night fell and he didn’t know what to do, but just before the light completely disappeared, he found a rather large hollow tree. Climbing into it, he decided to wait until morning and settled down to spend the night in the tree. After a while, he thought he heard a peculiar voice. He was about to call out to it when he heard another strange voice, and for some reason he remained silent. There was something strange about the voices, something which made him want to stay silent in the hollow tree...but first…

Meet ‘Shroom, the guy in the tree. He’s fifteen years old, five feet and six inches tall, a super smart and friendly guy most of the time, slightly self-conscious, and a well known guy. He’s an atheist to some effect, thinks everything has or needs a label, scrutinizes everything, and lives in his own private dorm located by the ever-populated Communications Arts in San Antonio, where he is currently receiving his education. He has jet black hair, blue (and occasionally green) eyes, and a pale shade of tan on his skin. He got the moniker “‘Shroom” because of an incident in the school’s fields. He tripped on a mushroom while playing football with his fellow ninth graders and flew at least two feet. Two full feet of complete humiliation in the form of mushroom powered flight. Let’s get back to our story.

 

We left ‘Shroom in the hollow tree, hearing voices. ‘Shroom had never heard these voices at the school. So as his first instinct, he made some observations. He stood and walked to the entrance of the tree, standing at the very edge. He smelled the damp, humid, and piney atmosphere, paused, and crossed his arms, thinking. Unsatisfied, he walked to the middle of the tree and sat disdainfully in the silence, Indian-style. He let his hands lay on his knees, palms up.

 

“Nothing.” He tilted his head upwards and sighed heavily, closing his blue eyes. “Not even a hint of a perfume, some cologne, anything,” he muttered softly. He clenched his teeth down and fought of a case of the chills then slowly got up. He slowly approached the edge of the tree again and peered outside the tree. He turned to face the inside of the tree and said in a half-whisper, “This tree is so old, it covers about a five foot diameter. And this entry way is a pretty decent size—a good four-to-five feet off the ground. I could stand up straight and just as comfortably pace around inside this tree.” He nodded in distant approval. He turned to face outside the tree’s exit again.

Through ‘Shroom’s eyes, we see a deep, dark forest with fauna and dead plants. We also see piles of dirt, tufts of dead things that took the general shape of rabbits, some grass, and all of the obvious things you’d have in a forest. But through our view point from outside the tree, we see two glowing spheres, one pink and one black, that are floating right above the entry way of ‘Shroom’s tree. ‘Shroom hears high-pitched giggling and some conversing. He heard—

“He looks funny!” The first voice was high and squeaky.

 

“Uh-huh! Uh-huh!” This voice sounded forced in a sarcastic way, and was slightly lower. Slightly.

 

“And he’s really tall!” The voice put heavy emphasis on “really.”

 

“Uh-huh!”

 

“And really huge!” The voice emphasized “huge.”

 

“Uh-huh!” The voice emphasized the “huh” part, making her voice crack.

 

“No I’m not. I’m average fifteen year old size. And I’m not ‘huge’ either.” ‘Shroom said this to the “talking air” knowing full well that he hadn’t known if they were talking to him or about him. Still, he was bitter. If they were talking about him, they didn’t even know him all that well and they called him fat. Hence, his negativity. He walked to the farthest point from the entrance of the tree and sat down on the moist earth. He folded his arms across his chest and sulked, pulling his knees up to his chest.

 

“Do you think he heard us?” Voice number one gasped dramatically.

 

“I dunno…” Voice number two doesn’t talk often obviously. Or it doesn’t get out too much. Either way, it was sad to ‘Shroom seeing as how this voice didn’t have a very big vocabulary.

 

“It doesn’t look like he has ears. Oh! No, wait! Here they are!” The first voice got loud all of a sudden.

 

“They’re round. Ours are much pointier.” This voice got just as loud.

 

“H-hello? Name’s ‘Shroom…uh…Who’s there?” ‘Shroom tried to back up more and stopped when he realized he couldn’t. He maneuvered his hands, like he was looking for support. He moved his head back and forth in attempt to find the voices. It looked as if though he was twitching.

 

“He speaks!!” The voices squealed with excitement. It sounded like a shriek you hear in monster movies, but more cheerful, in a way.

 

“H-Hello? M-May I ask who is spe-speaking please!?” he practically yelled. ‘Shroom closed his eyes and shook his head, as if to get back to reality, then got down on his hands and knees and started rummaging through the leafage.

 

“Well,” the first voice started, “while you do whatever it is that you’re doing, the name’s Alex, faerie of—” They both floated into view.

 

“Of all of the sissy things of the world,” the next faerie said with overloaded sarcasm. The second voice’s tone changed abruptly, being previously high and squeaky. The “faerie,” as they said they were, was punk rock or something to that effect. She had brown eyes and black hair. ‘Shroom’s first reaction to this faerie was, “At least she has more vocabulary than I thought.”

 

“And this,” the first voice sounded mad, “is Victoria, who got the lamest nickname ever! ‘Faerie of Burning Sandals!’ But her real name’s ‘Victoria, Faerie of Dragons.’ She’s really mean!” This faerie was like a pink themed Tinkerbell, except for the brown hair and eyes. ‘Shroom’s response to this faerie was, “She seems like such a girly-girl. She talks and sounds like the girls at my school do when they talk about guys.”

 

“It’s not my fault you’re a wuss!” Victoria retorted fiercely.

 

They continued their bickering, but ‘Shroom paid them no mind. He thought this was all a trick. He was dead set to find a projector and/or a tape recorder somewhere, hidden in the foliage. A few minutes passed when he stood up and began to closely inspect the inside of the tree’s walls.

 

“Still, nothing…” he half-whispered. He turned to the arguing apparitions, reached out, and grabbed one. Unfortunately for him, the one called Victoria.

 

“Hey!!” The punk faerie adjusted her body in his fist so she was facing him and threatened him harshly. “Leggo of me or I’ll make you wish you hadn’t ever—” ‘Shroom started poking and prodding her, silencing and thoroughly frustrating her. Then he gathered up the other one and asked—

 

“Are you for real?” ‘Shroom slightly tilted his head to the right while bringing them closer to his face.

 

“Are you a piñata?” Victoria’s voice was drenched with sarcasm. But ‘Shroom simply thought, “Sarcasm, irony, it’s all the same to me.”

 

“We’re about as real as…the hands you’re…crushing us with,” Alex managed to say between gasps. She forced a smile on; you could tell, because it was extremely crooked.

 

‘Shroom let go of them and sat on the ground against the back wall. The faeries floated a couple of feet away from him as they began to rapidly whisper to each other and occasionally glancing at ‘Shroom. He looked at his watch and it read: 11:55 Saturday, May 31st, Year: SD 739; Evening.

 

“I’m so out to lunch right now,” he admitted, and then he mentally laughed at himself. He didn’t see any other possibilities, but to sit there and—he shuddered at the thought—talk. “So…Victoria, right? How’d you get your nickname?”

 

“Ugh…” Victoria complained as she turned to acknowledge him. Then Alex decided to answer for her. Alex was the social butterfly out of the three. Victoria and ‘Shroom were just anti-social.

 

“You see,” Alex started, “Victoria was on a rescue mission. There was a really mad dragon and it was firing fire and stuff. Her mission was to calm down the stupid thing, swoop behind it, and save the person stranded there. She completed the first two objectives, but when it came to the saving part, she wound up saving a pair of flaming sandals! Henceforth, burning sandals!” She said this so fast, it’s amazing it was all heard.

 

“I see…” he said, a little disturbed.

 

“How’d you get ‘‘Shroom?’ Your parents named you that?” Victoria asked liked she wanted revenge. She folded her arms across her chest and smiled wickedly.

 

“Oh…I…uh…tripped on a mushroom playing football…it was an off day…” he hesitantly said while shyly rubbing the back of his head and looking down in shame and embarrassment, bringing his knees to his chin.

 

“I’m sure…” Victoria sneered, “Sad…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“What was that?” Victoria and ‘Shroom said in perfect unison. They looked around and throughout the tree. They saw Alex on the opposite side of the tree staring at the dark starless sky making the same noise over and over again.

 

“Mowr…” She did it again, but with a chilling, quiet, and cryptic voice that sent chills down ‘Shroom’s spine, as if though something wasn’t really there.

 

“What are you doing, you dork?” Victoria wasn’t very good at interrogating.

 

“Mowr, mowr, mowr, mowr, mowr, mowr, mowr, mowr, MOWR…” Alex slowly turned her head toward Vicky, and stared at her.

 

“That,” Victoria said hazily, “looks like fun…” Victoria floated drowsily to Alex’s side and began to mimic her. There eyes looked glazed over.

 

“Oh no…” ‘Shroom was already annoyed.

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

They stopped for a second or so. Shroom immediately thought, “Yes!! They’re done! But they’re still not all here…I wonder what’s wrong with them.” He asked if they were okay. There was a mere fifteen second silence when the faeries looked at each other, looked at ‘Shroom, then restarted “mowring,” but this time, it didn’t seem like they planned on stopping. ‘Shroom’s eyes dilated in trepidation and horror, but also in hope that they would notice how much this truly disturbed him. But things didn’t quite work out that well. His hands wouldn’t listen to him, no matter how much he wanted to cover his ears to block everything out. They sped up the “mowring” and both of them floated to each side of ‘Shroom so they were “mowring” in his ears.

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“Mowr…”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!” ‘Shroom’s terrified and annoyed scream pierced the starless darkness of the night which was slowly being engulfed in a grey cloud-like mist. There was a thick fog surrounding the pained ‘Shroom just as the faeries’ voices ate him from the inside, out. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t see, nor could see think. The only thing he could do was unwillingly listen to the faeries “mowr” continuously.

 

And then…

 

 

‘Shroom woke up at home on his bed listening to his CD player skip.