9
Suddenly I see a long tendril of
airy white magic drift into the car
through the open roof. I wonder who
it came from. I create a picture in my
head of a happy, smiling person,
feeling nothing but pure joy. If only
the world could be that kind. The
magic floats towards me, and as I
follow it with my vision, I finally spot
the laughing wish. It is in the form of
a small pink ball behind me, though it
sounds as if it was coming from
inside my own head. Suddenly the
tendril of white magic wraps around
the small ball of pulsing pink, and
they both disappear. I wonder who
the wish came from, as I certainly
didn't make one, but I dismiss the
thought as soon as it comes into my
head. Magic just likes to follow me
around sometimes, even if it’s not
mine. I see the thought take form
above my head and soar away into
the foggy sky.
I smile as the car drives on,
speeding into a wide tunnel. I relax in
the darkness.
All the Unspoken Things
by Mia Reginelli
Drawing by Mia Reginelli
I don't believe that darkness is bad- I see it
as a source of deep comfort. In the dark,
anything can happen. And in the dark, it’s
easier to see magic. I can see the wishes,
dreams, and thoughts flowing out of every
car that drives by, the darker ones
illuminated by the dim light of the tunnel. I
reach up to catch them like I always do, but
of course, I can’t. They fly higher than I ever
could, even in this confining black space.
Suddenly my mother turns towards me
from the passenger seat.
“We’re almost there. Are you excited?”
she says, smiling her usual heavily-
lipsticked smile. I can tell that it's a fake
smile.
“Yes,” I reply distantly, distracted by a
small coil of magic that has alighted on my
shoulder. It came from my own head, and it
is a shivering turquoise color. The color of
excitement, at least for me. I lay a finger on
it, and it disappears. The emotion still
remains in my head, though. I never could
figure out why magic disappears when I
touch it, but even when the physical form is
gone, I can tell that the magic lingers inside
the head of whoever dreamed it up.
I have known for a long time that other people can't see
what I see. Others can only imagine, while the invisible is
open to my eyes. Wishes fly above my head in swarms. I reach
up to catch them, but never do. The thoughts of strangers
whisper in my ear, but their message always floats out the
other. Magic curls around my fingers like smoke, but it
dissolves when I touch it. Magic comes from people; every
wish, dream, and thought escapes the confines of their minds
and soars away in the air. I can see into people’s lives, I know
what they dream about, I know everything. But I can't do
anything about it.
I can see my mom’s smile falter as I touch the space
that is empty to her eyes. My parents, along with
everyone else who sees me, think that I am delusional.
They have taken me to therapy and everything else,
trying to get me to tell people what is wrong with me.
But it's not that anything's wrong with me, it's that
something’s right with me. I can see magic, and they
can't, so I just smile and laugh at their loss. There is no
way that they will ever understand.
I think this as we approach the light at the end of the
tunnel. The light expands along with my excitement
until it envelopes my vision completely. When the shock
of sunlight fades, I find myself on a new road. It leads to
a place like nothing I've ever seen before. It’s a city,
large and sprawling and- unbeknownst to everyone but
me- bursting with magic. I watch as our car dives
headfirst into the city. Buildings grasp the clouds while
the subway screeches on beneath the ground. Magic
clogs the air, as thick as the mass of people below it.
I can only see, not interfere.
Today I am sitting in the back seat of my mother’s old
red convertible, listening to my dad singing along to ‘80s
tunes and the piece of magic that keeps laughing at me. I
can't quite pinpoint where it’s coming from, so I let it
laugh. This happens sometimes, but I let the annoying
ones go. They are usually wishes that come from people
who wish for silly things, like being a princess when they
grow up. But who knows? Wishes are granted in the
strangest of ways.
To some it might be overwhelming, but to me it is a comfort.
Seeing this much magic at once is beautiful, a swirl of
contrasting colors, shapes, and feelings. I don't know why I
decided to call it magic. I suppose others would call it a
physical manifestation of thoughts and feelings, but isn't
that what magic is?
As our car delves deeper into the city, I get lost in thought.
I think about many things, but mostly people. The people
I've known over the years have told me I'm a daydreamer, a
weirdo, or even sometimes plain old crazy. But I just ignore
those people. They don't know what I see, what I know. They
can tease me all I want, tell me to get my head out of the
clouds, but I will just tell them to get their heads out of my
business. After all, why should anyone care about a crazy
daydreamer who’s stuck in her own head, or rather, the
heads of others? They will never know. This is why, over the
years, I've learned to cope with being friendless. I don't
expect anything more from this new city, but who knows.
Maybe I'll meet someone else just as crazy as me.