Everett couldn’t understand why Sybil was mad at him. He had to be the only guy in the world with a companion pixie that hated their human. Everyone else got along just fine with their pixies, what was wrong with his? As kids they were very close, but something had changed with her gradually over the past couple years, and now it was like she was actively trying to sabotage him or something.

He sighed and turned around the corner to his home street, walking slowly. He didn’t like to admit that he was stalling until the moment he had to see her, but things had grown so tense between them lately that he dreaded being around her. He adjusted his school backpack and stared at the ground as he walked.

What do I do? He thought. It’s like she’s turning into a wild animal. She recoiled every time he went to pick her up, shouted at him every time she didn’t like something he did, or didn’t do. It was a mess.

He finally reached the end of the street and reluctantly stood at the edge of the driveway to his home.

The house he had grown up in had definitely seen better days; the porch was starting to rot away and the steps were sagging. The formerly white paint had yellowed and was beginning to chip away. Its windows had long since warped and stuck shut, the faded green door was scuffed and scratched from years and years of kids and animals running in and out, and moss grew on the decaying rooftop with increasing frequency every year.

He told himself he would fix it up when he got big enough, knowing well that he probably wouldn’t. Everett’s dad used to be the one who had fixed everything in the house, but he had left nearly ten years ago. Since then no one else had been able to do the job, and the house was suffering because of it.  Unless buildings were properly maintained, the persistent moisture of the Northwest had a tendency to reclaim anything and everything very quickly.

The garden was immaculate, however. He noticed that beautiful beds of daffodils, hyacinths, and tulips had sprung up since the last of the frost had melted for the year.  Small trees and bushes, still yet to regrow their leaves after the cold winter, were scattered throughout, strategically placed so that they looked random, but still maintained a balance to the overall picture. This garden was his mom’s handiwork, and she took great pride in it.

However, of all the plants in the yard, his favorite by far was the massive fir tree behind the house. It was huge, older than the house itself, probably older than every building in the whole neighborhood. Its gigantic boughs drooped and overshadowed pretty much everything on the property, and his run-down house looked more like a shack in comparison.

Everett heard a familiar humming just around the corner and sure enough, his mother was hard at work preparing a section for the spring season. She kneeled just outside the garden bed, light brown hair pulled into a messy bun, wearing a loose blouse covered in dirt smudges. She was pulling out any dead plants left over from the winter, and spreading a dark compost mulch around in their place. She looked up, saw Everett, and smiled warmly before resuming her work.

“How was school today, honey?” she asked as she pulled out a dead scrub and tossed it into the nearby wheelbarrow.

“Not bad,” he shrugged. Not good or anything, but not bad. “Pretty normal. Had a quiz in Algebra.”

“Mhm, any fun plans this afternoon?”

“Eh, probably go play video games with Kevin or something.”

“Mmm, doesn’t seem like you’re too excited about that?”

He shrugged.

“I dunno, just something to do, I guess.”

She looked up at him and the faintest look of concern flashed across her face.

“Fair enough,” she said, turning back to her work. “Hey before you go in, could you please bring the mail inside?”

“Yeah sure.” He trudged over to the mailbox and unloaded its contents into his arms, before heading back towards the house.

Everett paused for a moment. He knew he needed to go inside eventually, but that was one of the last things he wanted to do. He decided to stall a bit longer.

“So . . . what garden stuff are you working on now?” he coughed, sliding up next to his mom.

Her eyes lit up with excitement.

“This season’s new flowers! I’m thinking instead of poppies, we go for something a bit more colorful this time, yeah? I was thinking we go for mostly marigolds, scatter a few zinnias in there for more texture, and put something small and cute up front to balance out everything, not sure what though.” She looked up and raised a hand to her chin. “In fact, Mabelyne should be back with the seeds by now . . .”

Sure enough, a few seconds later, a lavender ball of light bobbed around the corner, and laboriously flitted over to where she was. His mom’s companion pixie, Mabelyne, was hoisting a handful of seed packets, each one larger than her torso, and looked like she was putting a considerable amount of effort into carrying all of them at once. She dropped them just in front of his mom, and then plopped down beside her. She wore a pair of tiny overalls and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and wore her hair into a side ponytail. Her gossamer wings, each one larger than her body, flattened as she flopped onto her back.

“Those were heavy, Sarah,” squeaked Mabelyne.

“And I thank you greatly, dear,” she replied. She reached out and gently patted Mabelyne’s head with a finger. “You can rest while I finish up here if you’d like.” Mabelyne sat up and brushed the finger away.

“Oi! Nuh-uh. We’re planting this bed and we’re doing it together,” she said firmly, before standing up and opening up one of the seed packets.

“Alrighty then,” Sarah said. She looked up and saw that Everett was still standing there. A look of concern spread across her face. “Where’s Sybil? Did she not go to school today with you?”

“Ehh, she wasn’t feeling too good, so she stayed home,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

That was a lie. They had fought again.

“Oh, well I hope she gets better soon. Especially with your birthdays being this weekend, I would hate for her to be sick for that. I can make her some nice broth if she needs it?”

Everett looked towards the house and tried to hide the sigh escaping his lips. There was no more stalling anymore.

“I’ll go see how she’s feeling now, but I think she’s mostly just tired though.”

“Oh, well if you need anything, you just let me know, kay?”

“Will do, mom.” He waved and made his way towards the front door.

Once inside, he heard a childish yelp and immediately stepped out of the way as a yellow streak of light shot past him, followed quickly by his kid brother, Trevor, holding a squirt gun. Trevor shouted “Hey Ev!” as he tore past, with Jimmy, the family black labrador, cantering in pursuit. The trio dashed into the kitchen to Everett’s right, and after a second his older sister Julianne came storming out of the living room to his left. Her face was soaked and he could’ve sworn it was steaming from how furious she looked. She tromped past him, her cerulean pixie zipping around her like an angry hornet. He heard her shout “I’m going to murder you!” as the sound of the back door slamming filled the house, then all was quiet.

Home for sure.

He dropped the mail on the kitchen table before slowly trudging his way up the stairs, up towards his room, towards what would be an inevitable shouting match again. Why had Sybil gotten so testy? It’s like everything he did set her off for no reason; seriously there was no pleasing the girl anymore. As he approached the door to his room, he paused, took a deep breath, and quietly pushed it open. Maybe he could avoid her noticing him, even though he knew it was impossible. The Bond that connected a human and their companion pixie meant that they always knew instinctively where the other was at any given moment. He braced for an onslaught of accusations, but none came. Surprised, Everett unslung his backpack next to the door, tossed his coat onto the bed and looked around the room.

His room was rather plain, but he kept it clean. He hated the classic teenage boy stereotype of being dirty and leaving clothes everywhere. Along the walls were some posters with sports cars on them that other people had given him over the years. He didn’t care for them at all, but he had to decorate his room with something, right? He felt the presence of Sybil in his room, but lately he’d been having trouble pinpointing exactly where she was, he figured she just wanted some space or something.

Just above his bed frame a shelf was mounted on the wall, and resting on top was a tiny bed, a tiny chest of drawers, and very few other accessories. He didn’t know why Sybil hadn’t personalized her space, all of the other pixies usually loved to decorate their places with fun little bits and bobs that they found interesting.  As they both would grow up and become more independent, he’d go buy a pixie hutch for her and give her more privacy; maybe that would make her happy? Was that what she needed? Usually pixies didn’t get their own rooms until they and their human reached adulthood. He sighed. Just another thing that he didn’t understand about her.

He quietly sat down on the bed. Maybe she’s broken. He thought, and then immediately chastised himself for thinking such a horrible thing. He loved her, and wished he knew how to help. But he didn’t, and things were getting worse and worse by the day.

As he sat pondering in silence, he heard a very, very soft sniffling sound.

That was . . . odd. He pulled off his shoes and knelt up on the bed, positioning himself so he could have a good view of Sybil’s shelf.

Sitting with her knees pulled up to her chest, on the floor of the shelf with her back up against her bed, facing away from Everett, was Sybil. She wore a plain t-shirt and jeans, the same outfit she wore every day lately. Her aquamarine glow was faint and she looked weaker than when he left for school this morning. Her short hair was mussed up, and her gossamer wings twitched and flicked as she visibly trembled. She sniffed again and shuddered.

“Uh . . . hey,” he said softly. She slowly turned her head to face him. Tears streamed down her cheeks and her eyes were puffy and red. Jeez, how long had she been crying? She stared at him for a long time, slightly furrowing her brow like she was trying to remember something.

“Wh-who . . .” she squeaked before hiccuping. “Who are you? I d-don’t recognize you anymore . . .”

Everett’s nose scrunched in confusion. What was that supposed to mean? Human and pixie bonds were one of the strongest forces on Earth, they’d known each other since birth, so why wouldn’t she recognize him? 

“Hey, what do you mean? It’s me, Everett.” He gestured to himself. “I’m your human.”

She mouthed the name ‘Everett’ to herself.

“It doesn’t f-feel right. It d-doesn’t sound right.” she shuddered again. Once again, Everett was confused. His name didn’t feel right? What the hell? Yeah sure he wasn’t really fond of his name either, but that’s what his mom named him, so that’s what he got.

Seriously, it was the littlest things that tipped her off.

“Well, I mean, that’s my name.” He shrugged. “And we’re bonded together, so like, get used to it, I guess?” he said, settling back down onto his bed.

Crap. That had sounded harsher than he had meant.

He heard another round of sobs from Sybil from up above.

What was he supposed to do?  Pixies and their humans were supposed to get along like best friends, what was wrong with his? He didn’t understand, the Bond was just supposed to work, it’s not like he could go to a relationship counselor for this kind of stuff.

Or could he?

He quickly stood up and made his way to his desk where his laptop sat, the one he had been given when he turned fourteen last year. He sat down and opened up the laptop, logged in, and opened a new search tab. He didn’t know what was going on, or why, but he felt like he was running out of time for some reason.

He was going to fix this, damnit, whatever it took.

After a few searches for pixie relationship issues and counseling, he finally found a result that looked promising:

Meredith’s Counseling and Mystic Arts - Professional help with Pixie/Human relationships, soul readings, trauma and abuse, depression and anxiety, LGBTQ+ and Veteran friendly.

It was worth a shot, and luckily, it was only a couple miles away, well within range of a bus trip. Should he visit tonight? They were open late, and he was beginning to get seriously worried about Sybil. He sat back and debated over it for a while.

A series of soft wails coming from her bed was all it took for him to spring into action. He jumped up, slipped on his sneakers, threw his coat on, and scooted up to her shelf.

“Hey,” he said softly, which prompted her to look up at him. “I think I know of someone who can help us. I don’t know what’s going on or why you don’t know me anymore, but I think they can at least figure it out, and I think it’s worth a shot.” He reached his hand out to her. “Whaddaya say? I think you’re going to want to be there too.”

She stared at his hand, a mixture of terror and loneliness etched across her face, then slowly nodded, stood up, and tiptoed onto his hand. When had she gotten so skinny? He lifted her up and settled her into the collar of his jacket, where she slumped into his chin-length hair, clinging to it with all her strength while simultaneously looking like she wanted to be as far away from it as possible. Feeling reasonably comfortable she wouldn’t fall off, he careened down the stairs and out the door, just brushing past his mom heading inside.

“Hey kiddo, off to Kevin’s?” she called out.

“Yeah!” he called back.

“Alright, just be back for dinner then!”

He gave a salute and took off down the street towards the bus stop.