The Pixies

It was late November, and the air was cool. The wind was blowing just enough to push hair into my face. My pale green eyes wondered around me, seeing everything that I passed. A swing swung by it's lonesome, creaking oh so wearily. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary at the time, but I kept watch all the same. My hair was waist length, light blonde, and was slightly curly. I'd straighten it occasionally, but it wasn't that much of a change. My skin was pale, but it wasn't so much so that it looked white. I was wearing a long pastel pink shirt, with black skinny jeans on, and Converse. I took my phone out of my pocket to check the time. It was 2:30 am, not a bad time to be out at night, seeing as though people have to sleep sometime.

I wasn't tall, nor big, so often I would be looked down upon by the other girls. Guys didn't like my much, either, because I'm not big-breasted or my butt wasn't big enough. We were only Freshmen in Greencastle High when this started happening, and I was younger than everyone, I still had growing to do. My mother was part Italian, and my father was part Russian, both sides of the family had mafia. I didn't know it, but I could have said the word and anyone I pleased would be done for. That isn't much use now, with the power I had.

I was a Pixie. Yes, a pixie. We don't have wings, so some call us elves. Our ears are slightly pointed, and our noses are petite, as well. We aren't like fairies, we're mischievous. Fairies are nice, cute, cuddly. We have powers beyond that of their 'cuteness'. We can read minds, if the person chooses to let us, or if they don't have the brain power to stop us. We can steal things with ease, even from our own. We are also excellent liars, aside from powers. I had only found it out a few months ago, but we can control others' actions, almost as if we owned a voodoo doll, we can change anything. Whether we choose to make it better, or worse, or completely end it; its only our choice.