Free Fairy by Shane McKenzie

hands and gripped Cecilia’s chin.
    â€œWell, will you look at that,” the doctor said.
    â€œHi, baby,” Cecilia said, her tears still beading up and dripping. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
    All the pain, all the agony, was a distant memory now. It was almost as if none of it had ever happened. Now that she had her baby girl, her little Judy, nothing else in the entire world mattered.
    The doctor gave mother and child another few minutes together before he cut the umbilical cord. The nurses took Judy to the other side of the room, weighed her, cleaned her up, dabbed antibiotic jelly over her eyes. Cecilia pushed the placenta out of herself, and when the doctor asked her with a smile if she wanted to see it, she declined, her attention on the nurses and her baby.
    â€œAre you going to breast feed?” one of the nurses said.
    â€œYes…yes, of course.”
    The doctor stepped out of the room as Judy was placed back in Cecilia’s arms. She unsheathed a breast, ran the tip of her nipple over the baby’s mouth, but Judy wouldn’t take it. The baby just stared up at Cecilia, flashed her another smile, but showed no interest in the colostrum seeping from her mother’s nipple.
    â€œIt’s okay,” the nurse said. “It’s common for babies to be a bit confused with what to do at first.”
    Cecilia knew this, had reassured countless other mothers of the same thing, but Judy didn’t even turn her head toward the milk, was too busy staring up at her mother. The baby’s eyes were unwavering, piercing.
    â€œWe can try again later,” the nurse said. “I’m just going to take her to the nursery where she’ll be bathed and clothed. Your daughter will be back in your arms in just a couple of hours, all right?”
    Cecilia nodded, though she had to force herself to allow the nurse to take Judy. She didn’t ever want to let her go, could hardly bear the thought of spending even a second away from her little miracle.
    Judy’s eyes never left Cecilia’s as the nurse pulled her away.
    And then Cecilia was alone. It wasn’t until she shifted her position that she realized how wet the bed was, soaked in her sweat, cool against her warm skin.
    She looked to the window, wondered if the fairy had been there, peeking in.
    Thank you.
    Part of her longed to see the fairy again, but that little voice reminded her of the pain, reminded her of the fairy’s hideous appearance.
    And, of course, there was her friend Judy’s voice.
    If you get this message, forget everything I told you. Don’t invite it into your room.
    But she did invite the fairy into her room, into her, and she would do it again. She knew that now.
    I h-had to pass it on. It’s part of…part of the rules.
    Cecilia wondered if the fairy made that rule to make sure it remained fed. She thought back to its emaciated body, and wondered if there weren’t enough people feeding it. I’ll make sure you get fed, she thought. Whether it’s someone else, or it’s me again, you’ll fill your stomach.
    She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting there, but it seemed far too long already. If she didn’t get her baby back into her arms soon, she thought she’d lose it. Her eyes darted to the door, and from somewhere beyond it, somewhere down the hall, a scream exploded, followed by more screams rattling the walls.
    Cecilia rolled out of bed, caught herself before she tumbled to the ground. She fought through the pain, through the soreness, and stumbled out of the door, her heart hammering against her ribs.
    Please tell me Judy is okay. Tell me my baby is okay.
    Hospital employees dashed down the hall of the maternity ward, shouting at one another. Nurses did their best to restrain what looked like new parents, telling them to remain calm, to stay in their rooms while everything was figured out.
    Cecilia quickened her pace,