Hamish Adourian - Jennifer Brown and the Dagger

For Susan

The fairies went from the world, dear,

Because mens hearts grew cold:

And only the eyes of children see

What is hidden from the old

Kathleen Foyle

Midway upon the journey of our life,

I found myself within a forest dark,

For the straight forward pathway had been lost.

Inferno, Canto I, Dante Alighieri

To learn to read is to light a fire.

Every syllable that is spelled out is a spark.

Victor Hugo

J ENNIFER ASKED ME to write all this down for her because she really couldnt do it herself, as shell explain to you in a while. Though I tried to put down everything the three of us remembered as best as I could, I did have some problems with the fairies language and the words Jen used when she did magic. In the end, we decided to translate them. I dont think we got everything exactly right, but were sure youll get a pretty good idea.

Anyway, thats enough of me over to Jen.

This is her story, after all.

W HAT WILL YOU think about if I say the word butterfly? If youre like most people, youll picture a single butterfly in your minds eye, maybe one you saw on a sunny afternoon or on a wildlife programme on telly. But if you say the word butterfly to me, then butterflies of different shapes, sizes, and colours will flood my mind like waves from an ocean and march before me one by one as if they were soldiers on parade. And thats just in the time you took to think of the single butterfly.

Now how would you feel if you couldnt read a book or even write your own name? Try to imagine twenty and seventy looked just the same, or lines of words shook like flies waiting to jump off the page.

Can you? Well, even if you can and I guarantee you cant you havent even come close to knowing what its like to be dyslexic.

At the time everything happened, I didnt know I had dyslexia or even what it meant. I do now, but I wont bore you with trying to talk about it anymore. Thatll be for another day.

This is the story of Lilahs Dagger, and it starts like this

T HE WOMAN WAS still there. Shed been marching up and down the school gates for most of the afternoon, stopping only to sit at the bus stop for a few minutes at a time. A large dog followed her with small, hobbling steps.

I turned back to the page in front of me, and began to count the pictures, that is, not the steps. One, two, three

Whose mum was she? Definitely not of anyone I knew. Then again, the empty chair at my desk was good at reminding me that getting to know people wasnt something I spent a lot of time doing.

Five, sixno, four

I pressed my finger against the page and looked at the clock hanging above the blackboard, then narrowed my eyes to stop the hands spinning in my brain.

Something past two, or maybe three . Clocks were so useless I never even wore the new watch Mum had bought me for my birthday last year. The school bell ringing in the afternoon was the only time I ever wanted to know about anyway time to go home.

Perfect .

Five, six, eight, sevenoh no, thats wrong!

The twins sitting in front of me looked around and burst into giggles.

Pay attention, you lot at the back, crowed Miss Lauren.

Ignore them all, I told myself, taking a deep breath. Id been feeling sick all afternoon, almost as if the chips Id eaten for lunch had turned into an army of potato goblins enjoying a game of tag in my stomach. The smell from the old schoolbooks Miss Lauren had dumped behind my desk only made the feeling worse.

A light wind blew in through the top of the open window next to me. Outside, the cobbled playground was deserted and an empty double-decker bus was just pulling up outside the school gates. The bell wouldnt be long. It was the last day before the Easter holidays and I was looking forward to our family camping trip to the Yorkshire Dales a whole week far away from home, school, and everything in between.

I stared back outside. The woman was now hanging around the corner of the caretakers house just across the playground. What was she up to ? She wasnt the caretakers wife or even one of the teachers. I drew closer and pressed my nose against the cold glass. She was wearing a long white overcoat and had blonde hair that flowed onto her shoulders, while the nervous-looking dog paced around her legs.

Blonde Woman produced a black object from her pocket and held it up to her eyes. Binoculars ? What was she looking at? Had she spotted me?

The woman turned and disappeared behind the corner of the house, the dog following her like a shadow.

I shook my head and went back to the book.

Eight, seven

Just as I realised my counting was still muddled, and eight came after seven, the twins began to whisper my name like a pair of witches casting their spell. I looked up and saw why. Miss Lauren was marching up to my desk with her arms folded and her eyes fuming like a pair of volcanoes about to erupt.

Her voice was anything but warm.

Jennifer, what are you doing?

I caught my teachers eye for a moment before looking back at the page. There was a picture of hundreds of fairies flying around a young man and woman asleep together beneath a tree. Lovely, beautiful fairies. We were doing our English lesson, and Miss Lauren had told us this was a scene from a famous play at the theatre.

I lowered my voice to a whisper, hoping the twins wouldnt hear me. Um, I was trying to count the fairies, Miss.

Miss Lauren stared at me. Could you say that a little louder, please, Jennifer.

I felt my temperature rise I could almost see the thin red line shooting up the invisible thermometer stuck to my potato goblin-filled belly.

I was counting the fairies in the picture, Miss.

The whole class erupted into peals of laughter, except for Miss Lauren, who looked like dried lava. She picked up my jotter and raised her eyebrows. I went red, knowing shed seen the scribbles on the page all I had to show for my efforts to copy down her writing from the board.

Did you write this? she asked, without really expecting an answer. I just cannot understand why you have to be so misbehaved all the time. Are you incapable of paying attention?

Miss Lauren paused, and ruffled her bushy hair. Well, since you obviously dont enjoy being in my classroom, you can go and stand outside for the last ten minutes.

I felt the tears welling up in the distance as I looked back at Miss Lauren. Thats not fair.

The twins gasped.

Miss Lauren turned scarlet and hissed. Jennifer, Im going to ask you politely one last time. Leave your desk and stand outside until the bell goes. I will speak to you then.

I raised my voice to stop the tears. Its not my fault I cant write it down like the others! Its not fair!

Miss Lauren clapped her hands and yelled. Get OUT!

She was so loud I shook and wobbled the chair. My heart pounding, I got up and hurried through the middle of the classroom, all the while ignoring the mutters and whispers mushrooming around me like the cloud from a nuclear explosion.

Shes weird

Look at her shoelaces

Even her mum says so, doesnt she?

They hated me. Theyd always hated me. I felt I could march back into that classroom with a box of matches and burn the horrid place down, making sure everyone choked on the flames.

I slammed the door and crouched against the wall, taking in mouthfuls of the stale oxygen in the foyer.

A tear dripped out of my eye and teased its way down my cheek. I brushed it away so quickly it was almost a slap. I hoped I wouldnt throw up until I got home. In a way, I wouldnt mind even if I did. Id started the year hoping things would get better, but the others had just become worse, and at least the old teacher hadnt shouted like Miss Lauren well, at least not as much.