prolouge
Milith—7 years old
Right now, I, a small, shy girl, am playing alone in a playground, sitting in the sandbox and letting the soft, warm sand trickle through my fingers. The warmth feels pleasant on my skin. Suddenly, a strange feeling comes over me. A kind of intuition that I am no longer alone. There is a rustling in a particularly dense hedge at the edge of the property, and I spot a strange, flickering light as my gaze follows the sound. The light looks as if someone were moving a small mirror in the sunlight. Curious, I crawl closer, carefully pushing branches aside until I peer into a sort of hollow in the bushes. There stands a small figure, slender, with translucent skin that shimmers slightly in the light. The eyes are large, but not eerie. Rather knowing. Peaceful. The creature seems almost like a little fairy, floating, but without wings. And although we don’t exchange a word, I have the strong feeling that it sees me. Not just with its eyes—it sees me. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished. Just like that. No sound, no flash of light. Just an empty patch of earth, as if it had dissolved into thin air. I don’t tell anyone about it. Who would believe me? But ever since then, I’ve known that there is more than what we can see and touch.
