I dream of shapeshifting. I long to be able to change how I look to suit my whims and to suit the person I am inside. I dream of not being trapped in this body that doesn’t feel like it belongs to me. My skin hurts in a way I can’t explain, if I look in the mirror it only hurts more, if I speak my ears bleed. I want to be free.

The life of a pixie is very good indeed. I can do as I please all day long and into the night. I can go where the humans do when I’m bored and watch them live their strange lives. I can even invite myself into their homes and cause mischief to see how they react.

The humans have so many strange things, big things, little things, things that glow, and things that make noise. Things I wish I could take back to my nest. Sometimes I do; pretty chains that I can wrap around my horns and rings that fit my head just so. The humans wear them differently, they wear them wrong. Who would decorate their hands, surely that only gets in the way? Silly humans with their silly ways.

A pixie knows much better.

They listen, the quiet room almost oppressive in its darkness. They wait, breath fogging in front of their mouth, stuttering slightly from the cold. Soon it won’t be cold any longer, this night one they dread every month because it means being locked in this room.

On the far wall is a window, high up under the ceiling, the moon shining her light between the bars. They take a deep breath, steeling themselves for what’s to come. Oh how they wish to be free, the break out of this room and run!

They change, the animal inside tearing through the restraints of their body to howl forlornly to the empty room. One day they will be free, one day they will feel the dirt beneath their paws. Tonight all they feel is cold concrete, the darkness keeping them shrouded, hidden away from the world outside.

Its so lonely.