2-Crossing between the lines

"I am your fairy… the one you write about in your story."

The words froze on my lips. I stared at her, shocked, trying to comprehend what I had just heard. How could this be real? How could my imagination take shape, voice, and life? Stammering, I said in a trembling voice:

"Who? What? How? How can you be here? You're just a figment of my imagination... How is this possible?"

She smiled that same smile I had always painted in my mind, but seeing it before me made my heart pound violently. She raised her hand calmly and said with a confident tone tinged with light humor:

"What's wrong? Did you see a ghost? Or did you see a ghost?"

I felt my chest tighten. The words she spoke were almost a joke, but they only added to the strangeness of this situation my mind couldn't grasp. Before I could respond, she took a step closer, her eyes looking at me with a gaze I couldn't decipher.

"I've come to you here to tell you something important," she said in a deep voice, a blend of strength and longing. "You need to finish writing the events. If you don't, I will disappear."

"Disappear?" I repeated, as if trying to understand the meaning behind her words, but fear began creeping into my heart.

She nodded and continued, "I've been hiding, watching you every day as you write me. I would silently observe you, waiting for the moment you'd finish writing, when you'd take a break and leave me stuck between the lines. I'd watch you… mesmerized by you, your words, your details."

I looked into her eyes, those eyes that carried a tenderness deep enough to overwhelm me entirely. My heart raced with fear, yet somehow, I felt as though I'd been waiting for this moment my entire life. I couldn't believe I was seeing her before me, with all the details I had once drawn in my imagination.

She approached me with calm steps, raising her hand gently but confidently. She looked at me with a gaze filled with warmth and affection, and said in a light tone that mixed reproach with humor:

"Hey, kiddo, you need to write! This isn't the time to stare at my beauty."

Her words snapped me out of my daze, and I smiled nervously, saying:

"But… I don't know what to write. I don't have any events in mind right now."

She let out a light sigh, then looked at me seriously and said:

"If you don't write, and if you don't keep writing for the next two days… I'll disappear forever. And even you, you won't remember me. And I… I don't want to disappear. I want to see you always."

Her words were like soft daggers. I felt the weight of every letter she spoke. I stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend how this could be happening. I murmured in a hoarse voice:

"How? How can this happen?"

She smiled, but it was a sad smile. She placed her hand on my heart as if trying to reassure me, then said softly, as if whispering a great secret:

"Your mind… your mind is what wants me to exist. It's what's keeping me here. But beyond that… I can't tell you."

She stood before me with a mysterious confidence, as if she held a secret known only to her. She gazed at me deeply, then said in a calm yet assured voice:

"I can place my hand on your mind and make you experience the story as if it's a dream. You won't feel your hands writing; you'll just live the events. And I will stay here… watching your face and living the story with you at the same time."

Her words left me speechless. I couldn't respond or even think. I felt as though I was stepping into a new dream, but before I could grasp what was happening, she moved closer, slowly. She raised her hand cautiously, as if ensuring I was ready for what was about to happen. Then, she gently placed it on my head.

In an instant, I felt a surge of warmth flow from her hand into my body, as if time had frozen, and my eyes closed against my will. I fell asleep, or perhaps I didn't, for the feeling was akin to being transported to another world.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a place I didn't recognize. The sky was vast and breathtakingly blue, but I couldn't figure out where I was. I tried to move, but I felt as though I had detached from reality.

Then I heard her voice. That warm, tender voice that had become more familiar than I ever expected. She was calling me, laughing with a teasing tone:

"Hey dear, are you going to keep staring at the sky like that?"