I've got a question for you; A girl walks into a supply store asking for ten cans of red paint, six-packs of zip ties, four twelve-foot-long pieces of jute rope, two hammers, a large box of nails, duct tape, and a saw, what would you think? Would you question if you just witnessed a murderer collecting supplies for their next victim? Or maybe a sad housewife who's ready to end her life and escape her ongoing routine? I bet the last thing you would ponder, is a young woman who is about to plan the best, most intricate, prank of the century.
You won't ever know my name. I've wiped every trace of me on the planet. From photo albums to selfies, and even some people's memories, no one knows my name or that I merely exist. I'm not hiding, I'm living under their noses in plain sight and I blend in more than you could ever imagine. It's simple really, my whole life has been this never-ending loop of consistency that I had no control over. I was never able to settle down considering I have never had the resources to. The reason why I am telling you this is that in case I die, I will have died a legend for what I have prepared 365 days for. Or so I thought.
March 31st, 11:59 pm, 2019, was the day I thought of ?it?. ?It?, is the idea that would, later on, consume all of my thoughts, my energy, and my humanity. I had no idea how much ?it? would consume me. And the funny part about it is, I thought of ?it? while I was taking a shit. I had been on the toilet for about seven minutes and counting when I looked down at my feet wishing I had put socks on. I then wondered how many other people were stuck in an inconvenient spot somewhere with cold feet. I laughed at myself loudly due to the fact that I rarely ever ponder these little insignificant, unanswerable, stupid questions about people and the life around me You see, I live in a city with tens of thousands of people walking up and down the streets each day. I see a new face every centimeter I turn my head. But the ironic thing is, considering I am surrounded by them every day, I never give any of them a single piece of mind. So why now?
I chose now because I am finally ready to do more than just wake up. I am finally equipped to take a left turn instead of a right. And, of course, as cliche it certainly sounds, I finally have the energy to do something different. Ok? I'll be honest, I have rambled quite a bit about random ideas and origins you probably couldn't care less about, but trust me it all matters. You won't know my plan until the last sentence of this piece of words. And don't you dare skip to the bottom. It is my duty, my soul purpose, my life goal, to keep every single one of you in the dark for as long as possible. Why? Because it's fun! You may actually want to take notes ladies and gentlemen, because you may want to continue this legacy.
Considering it took me a year to finalize this plan, I might as well tell you, in a very broad way, what the steps were and where I am now. First of all, the toilet story is a lie? Oops! Pranked you, HA. The conclusion from it was though, I am ready to do differently. But it's true, there is no origin, no clever discovery or mishap, I simply just wanted to do this. Sorry I'm so boring. Correction: sorry I WAS so boring. Anyway, the first step was to train my brain to dream of ?it? happening. It sounds absolutely ridiculous, I know, but it actually worked. I spent hours, which turned to days, which turned to weeks of envisioning this ?prank?. The amount of paper I went through merely writing it down over and over again so it would stick in my brain and turn into a dream was wild. The dream eventually developed, but it crafted itself in snippets. It wasn't anything too detailed or memorable, it was a failure. One night, I chose to do something completely different. I kept myself awake until the early morning consumed with aggravation and so drained of trying. I ended up crashing around 4:00 am, and not waking until 1:00 pm. I dreamed the whole thing, it worked, I now knew the play by play. I now had the basics figured out. Step two: Three months in, is where it started to go from an idea to a plan. At this point, I had vision boards covering my apartment perfectly illustrating how I was going to pull it off. Seeing those every day gave me the hope and drive to keep going. I felt dangerous and cool, and genuinely genius. After those three months of dreaming flew by, was when I learned how to hack. I won't go into detail because that is very illegal, but let's just say I taught myself the in-depth way around the mind of software. I knew this skill would come especially in handy if I had to make my way around mainframes and passcodes. The basics took about two months to learn until I moved on to execution.
Execution is step three. Step three is the last of the steps. Step three is when it happens. This step makes or breaks. It began with the maps. I had to make sure I would know exactly where I was going at all times, so I re-routed the maps of my city and drew a new one only I would be able to decipher. It was actually a very simple map, but totally foreign to the average person. This took no time at all; I love drawing. Now that I had the vision, the heart, the brains, and the picture, I just needed the supplies. This was the easiest of them all. I lived right down the street from a small hardware shop, and I only needed a few basic items. That night, I walked down the block and finalized my purchases, and made my way back to my place.
Step four. March 30th, 11:59 pm, 2020. Step three was supposed to be the last step. It was supposed to be the conclusion and the final cherry on top of what I had prepared the last 364 days for. What happened. Everything was going perfectly until that night when I came home to an empty apartment. All of my plans, my journals, my boards, my computers, my stuff, completely gone. It was almost as if I had never existed. It was almost as if I had been watched all these days and nights, only to be swept clean of the biggest part of me. I stood there in the doorway with my wallet and the bag of supplies I had bought shortly before and stared blankly at my vacant studio apartment.
It was then, when I realized, in the midst of planning a prank, I was a part of one much bigger. Someone's sick idea of a joke. A joke that ruined my life and all of my work. A person who had observed me so closely for almost 365 days planning to take what they knew was so precious to me. It was evil, it was malicious, it was BARBARIC. It was so well thought out and so perfectly executed. As much as it kills me to admit it, this hideous prank was not only genius, it was legendary. This whole time, the prank was on me, and for that, you'll never know exactly what I spent those 364 days preparing for.
Olette was awoken by a sound. Not the kind of sound you usually hear, such as a car passing by or the hiss of a shower. No, this sound came from inside Olette. It was a little voice, urging her to wake up and do her job. Get up, it said impatiently. You have a long day ahead of you.
Well, it was right. Olette opened one bleary eye, sat up, and rubbed away the sleep with her tiny fists. She looked down at her irresistibly comfortable nest and wished for nothing more than to settle down and sleep for a few more months. But she had a job to do.
But she couldn't very well do it in her nightgown.
The little pixie knelt down and searched. Soon her hand closed around the cool metal handle of a mirror, and she looked at her reflection. A peculiar creature stood back at her, with pointy ears so sharp you would cut your finger with one touch. Everything about Olette was sharp. A sharp chin, sharp amber eyes, and sharp lips which were so often pursed that it was quite hard to smooth them out. Her hair was long and tangled from not being brushed for nearly a year, and so she took out a comb and set to work, brushing out the jet-black locks.
After changing into an electric blue dress that was somewhat tight around the waist, she was ready. Olette stretched her stiff back and concentrated hard. Her folded wings popped out, large and colorful as stained glass. Hoping she hadn't forgotten how to fly, Olette jumped off the tree branch on which her nest was built. Then she flapped.
Similar to a hummingbird, she soared through the ear as easy as she could blink. "Now, time for some fun," she said with a mischievous grin as she zigzagged through the tree trunks.
Olette lived in Green Nook Wood, a forest that accompanied a small town which only had about two hundred occupants. For nearly twelve months a year, Olette slept inside her nest. She had built it when she was first born, around fifty years ago, on top of a very tall large tree. And every year, on the first day of April, she would awaken to do a very special job.
Which, as you might have guessed, was Olette's doing.
It was Thursday, so school would be in session. Olette smiled to herself as she zoomed towards the building at lightning speed. She had to be fast, otherwise people would see her. Once in a while they would catch a little blue shape whooshing through the air, but she was gone in a blink and they always thought to have imagined it. She would have liked to tease them a little, but couldn't risk it. If someone saw her true form, or heard her voice, that would be the end. She would have broken the most important April Pixie rule: never be seen. If she was caught, there would be a new pixie. And she couldn't let that happen.
The sixth grade had left their window open, and Olette slowed down. Careful to make sure no one was looking her way, she crawled through the frame, onto a nearby bookshelf, and hid between two thick dictionaries.
The class was made up of only ten students. Olette counted four girls and six boys. The teacher was a man, and she knew him well. He was Mr. Oliver James, or as he liked to be called, Mr. OJ. He had a large red beard and twinkling eyes. He often made his pupils laugh, and Olette wished she could talk to him. She loved fun people.
There! At the front of the class sat a girl, probably twelve years old. She had a distinctively snooty look, as if she thought she was better than everyone else. She held her chin high (slightly too high, for Olette could see up her nostrils) with straight brown hair tightly coiled into a bun. It made her look older, which Olette supposed was the whole point.
She was perfect.
Now for the guilty one. The rest of the children looked normal enough, paying attention to the teacher obediently But one boy in the second row kept flicking his eyes towards the window. He looked restless, Olette observed, as he jiggled his knee repeatedly against the bottom of his desk. There was her culprit.
The prank snapped into place like lightning. Olette looked at the snooty girl and pictured her crime, growing brighter and brighter in her mind as it materialized into air--or more specifically, the girl's backpack. She did the same with the boy, planting fake evidence in his bag. She couldn't wait to see it play out.
The rest of the class went by so slowly, Olette thought she would scream with impatience. Finally, the bell rang, and the kids began to put their books away. Olette watched with greedy anticipation as the girl reached inside her backpack.
And then, without warning, it burst into flames.
"SCAAAA-REEEEEEAAAAAAAMMMM!" The girl screamed louder than a banshee, dropping the bag onto the wooden floor and sticking her burned fingers into her mouth. Olette covered her mouth just before a shout escaped and stared in horror at the flaming pack.
That was NOT supposed to happen.
Fear grew in her chest as she imagined the flames spreading to the floor, then engulfing the whole school. She shut her eyes tight and waited for the burning pain...
But it didn't come. She cautiously opened her eyes and saw the whole class, plus the teacher, standing shocked at the large pile of glitter on the floor that used to be the girl's backpack
Mr. OJ walked slowly towards the bright pink pile and touched it. Nothing happened. It was just a pile of plain glitter. Olette grew dizzy. She only wanted the girl's backpack to be filled with glitter, not burst into flames and dissolve into a sparkling mess. And the boy... she had put glitter bottles inside his bag. Were they there, too? She didn't understand what had gone wrong.
"Violet, let me see your hands." Mr. OJ didn't sound fun anymore. The snooty girl, Violet, held out her palms and the teacher observed them. They weren't harmed, since she had dropped the bag so quickly. Olette let out a grateful sigh. Rule number two of being an April Pixie: do not harm your victims.
"Who did this?" Mr. OJ said quietly after letting go of Violet's hands. "Whoever did this, raise your hand now."
No one did. Olette didn't expect them to. She held her breath, waiting to see what would happen.
Mr. OJ wordlessly walked to each child, taking their bags and rummaging through them. Olette closed her eyes and frantically tried to evaporate the evidence inside the restless boy's bag, but it was no use. Once she did a prank, she couldn't make it disappear.
Her boy was last in line. "David, your bag," Mr. OJ said. The boy handed him his backpack with an innocent look on his face. He was innocent, Olette thought with a sickening conscience in her stomach. She had gotten kids into trouble before, but nothing like this...
"David!" Mr. OJ pulled out a box of matches from his pack." Olette let out a tiny gasp. She had never put those matches there. Mr. OJ reached in another hand and took out a bottle of glitter. Olette closed her eyes and moaned. The glitter was hers, she knew. But the matches...
David stood gaping at the matches and bottle. "But--but--I didn't-"
"Oh, I think you did." Mr. OJ had on the angriest look Olette had ever seen. He pocketed the matches and glitter. "David, I have no idea how you even managed to get the matches inside Violet's backpack, or how it bursted into flames when you were sitting a row behind her, or--or how it turned into glitter. But you are in more trouble than you can imagine. Go to the principal's office."
Poor David, looking utterly bewildered, walked silently out of the room.
Olette couldn't stand to be here anymore. Trying her best to keep in the shadows, she flew out of the room and went after David in the hallway. Maybe she could help him, perhaps do some sort of reverse prank to get him out of trouble... but how could she do that?
In her deep thinking, she lost concentration of flight. Suddenly she crashed into David's shoulder.
"OUCH!" She cried loudly as she fell to the ground. David spun around, eyes wide.
"Who's there?" He cried, looking wildly. "Who was that?"
Olette covered her mouth in horror. He had heard her. She spoke in the presence of a human. She broke the first rule of being an April Pixie.
"Hello?" David called again. "Who said 'ouch'?"
It was no use pretending she wasn't there. She had already broken the rule, so she was sure to die soon.
"It was me," she said feebly, raising her hand. "Down here."
David's eyes travelled to the floor where she lay, her left wing aching slightly. He let out a frightened gasp but didn't run. Instead, he knelt down beside her and gently helped her up with his finger. She was no bigger than his thumb.
"Thanks," she squeaked.
"What are you?" David said in wonder. "A fairy?"
Well, he was certainly quick to jump to conclusions.
"I'm a pixie!" Olette huffed "Fairies are prettier and like animals."
"I think you're pretty," David said kindly. "And pixies are more fun than fairies, anyway."
Olette softened. At least he was nice. "Thank you," she said. Then sadness returned to her face. "I--I'm sorry," she said. "This is all my fault."
David frowned. "What is"
"The girl's backpack," Olette said, trying to keep guilty tears from falling. "I'm sort of a... a prank pixie. I wake up every year on April Fool's Day to play pranks on certain people. I was going to fill Violet's backpack with glitter, and put glitter bottles in your backpack for evidence because you seemed like a good culprit, but somehow it went horribly wrong and it burst into flames..." she covered her eyes with her hands and tried to stop the tears.
David tried to pat her back with his finger, but ended up tipping her over. "It's okay," he said. Olette was surprised that he wasn't more disbelieving of her job. "But you didn't put the glitter in there. I have no idea where the matches came from, but the glitter belongs to my sister. She let me borrow it for art class today."
Olette looked up in surprise. "You mean... the bottles weren't my fault?"
David shook his head. "Nope."
Olette frowned deeply. "I don't understand," she said. "How did my prank get so mixed up?"
David brightened, though Olette hadn't the foggiest idea why. "Let's find out," he said happily. "We can go and find whoever messed with your prank."
Olette admired his taste for adventure, but she couldn't possibly do that. "No," she refused. "I.. I'll be gone soon." And she knew it. She felt herself growing weaker She barely had feeling left in her wings, and she felt unusually tired. "I talked to a human. I broke the first rule of being an April Pixie. Soon, a new one will take my place." A desperate feeling tightened around her heart and squeezed as she realized she would be gone soon. Where would she go? Would she die, or simply go and live somewhere else as a normal pixie? Were there even such things as normal pixies?
David looked as sad as she felt. "Before you go," he said in a pleading voice, "teach me how to do a good prank. You didn't get a fair chance today. Let me do one for you instead."
Despite her growing sadness, Olette smiled. Gladness bloomed in her heart. At least she would die with a friend to continue on her tradition, at least for today. "Deal," she said "Now, who here in this school is deserving a prank?"
David answered immediately. "Seraphina Baton," he said with an involuntary shudder. "She's the meanest girl in school. And you'd think she'd be popular to be so cruel, but she's the one everyone avoids. If anyone deserves a prank, it's her."
Olette rubbed her hands together. "Then we have our victim," she said with a giggle. "Now, the next thing to do is frame someone. Who do you think is the most obvious culprit here?"
David smiled. "Easy," he replied. "Shawn Olaf. He thinks he's funny, but mostly he's annoying. He's in the fifth grade."
"Then we have some work to do," Olette said, laughing in spite of herself. "Come on, new friend. Pick me up and let's go."
***
Soon, the prank was ready.
This was the first prank Olette had done using already existing materials. She didn't want to risk having another prank gone wrong and potentially hurting someone, and so David helped her obtain the necessary supplies.
They waited until lunch, by which Olette felt so weak she could barely move. David held her in his hand, holding her up so she could see. He was sitting in the cafeteria, and Olette looked curiously at his lunch. She never needed to eat, as she slept through most of the year.
Seraphina was sitting just a few tables away from them, eating tomato soup. She had fuzzy blonde hair that went all over the place, dull brown eyes, and a mole above her left eyebrow. Olette smiled sleepily as she pictured what would happen to her.
"Ooh, watch!" David said eagerly as Seraphina picked up her spoon. "She's gonna eat it..."
She took a spoonful of soup and ate it For a moment she looked as if she was savoring the taste. But then her face twisted, her eyes bugged, and she dropped the spoon in horror. "AH! AH! SUM 'UN GIT ME THOM WATHER!" She sputtered, reaching for her water bottle and downing half of it in one go. Then she screamed louder. "AAAAAAAH!" She shouted. "WHO PUT SALT IN MAH WATHER?!"
Olette was overcome by a fit of quiet giggles. David had poured four packs of chili pepper into Seraphina's soup while she was distracted by a few of her equally mean friends. David planned to prank them later.
"WHO--YOU!" Everyone was staring at Seraphina now. She marched over to Shawn, who was sitting at his table and laughing uncontrollably at her swollen tongue and red eyes. She picked up his bag and began to dig through it. Shawn was too busy laughing to pay her any attention. She brought out a pack of chili pepper and a bottle of salt. "HA!" She shouted triumphantly. Shawn looked as if he couldn't care less. "OO' DID IT! I'M THELLING!" And she ran towards the lunch teacher, who was staring at her, befuddled.
David looked down at Olette fondly. "That was funny," he said. "Thank you. Her friends won't know what's coming to them."
"You're welcome," Olette said softly. The world was fading away, blackness crowding her vision...
She felt a finger prod her. "Olette! Olette, wake up! Please!" David's voice was growing fainter, fading into the background...
***
Olette woke up inside a rocking chair. She gasped, startled, as she saw her reflection in a mirror on her lap. Her mirror. Why was her mirror on her lap? She looked exactly like an old human woman, her sharp features gone and her amber eyes now a delicate shade of green. Her hair was grey and puffy.
"Mom! I've been looking all over for you." A young woman came in the room and smiled, carrying a cake with electric blue frosting. She put it on top of a coffee table in the middle of the living room in which Olette was sitting in.
"Happy 50th birthday, Mom." The woman smiled.
Memories came flooding into her brain. Memories of a family. Olette smiled back.
***
David awoke inside a very soft nest. He looked around, shocked, at the forest surrounding him. He felt very small
A silver mirror was at his feet. He picked it up and looked at himself. His face was very sharp, and he had bright amber eyes that shined.
He looked exactly like Olette.
"Why, hello," a voice said behind him. David spun around and saw a squirrel standing on a nearby tree branch. "50 years already gone by. My goodness. I'm sorry to see Olette go, but you look pretty nice yourself."
David blinked.
"Ah, I suppose I should tell you. Olette passed on her duty to you. you won't remember this encounter, or your past human life after today. But you are the April Pixie of Green Nook Town now. You have 50 years, my friend. Use them well." And with a flick of his tail, the squirrel disappeared.
David shook his head in wonder. Already his memories of the squirrel were fading. Instead, a sleepy feeling took place, and he lay down in the soft nest.
Soon he fell asleep.
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