SPOV

I heard screaming from the dining hall so I rushed out to see what was going on. Yvonne was holding the side of her face, blood trickling through her fingers. I couldn't help it, I felt a vindictive sort of pleasure as I watched all of the people who had laughed at me moan or sob. I was horrified at myself afterwards, of course, those sorts of thoughts… I remember feeling the same about my mother, my father… lots of people. Karen? I can't remember.

I can't remember a lot. It scares me that the last god knows how many years I can only remember as a blur.

I can remember my mum's face twisted in rage.

I can remember my dad's face sneering at me.

I can remember lot's of people, all staring down at me, snarling words that cut like daggers.

Then I can remember a hauntingly familiar pair of eyes, soft as they look at me.

And then it goes foggy.

It's incredibly irritating.

Yvonne was giving a sobbing account of what happened to one of the teachers.

"-This huge owl burst through the window and raked it's claws-"

My heart froze and then started beating fast. Owl? There was something on the ground. I stepped forwards and grabbed it, backing away quickly. A white owl's feather. I had the strongest sense of de-ja-vu as I stood there, over a feather. I ran out of the school, no-one called me back or stopped me. I ran all the way home still clutching the feather tight in my fist. I sat at my vanity and laid the feather on it, smoothing it out with trembling fingers. I stared at it for a second and then carefully put it in my drawer.

What the hell was happening?

I watched as she ran holding my feather, I was absurdly pleased that she was so gentle with it. I remember when I flew into her bedroom when she was around seven. She'd squealed like a pig and dived under her covers. When I didn't move she'd peeked out and caught sight of my eyes. She crept out as though afraid she'd startle me and slowly extended her hand. She touched my feathers very gently and then snatched her hand back, like I'd bitten her. She was amazed when I changed back in front of her; she was quite disappointed when I said I couldn't turn her into one as well.

I flew back underground and started to prepare those disgusting mortals dreams, no crystal ballroom for them.

They ran and ran, branches clawing at their clothes, roots tangling their feet. Their terror built slowly and suddenly they dropped. Shapes grasped at their bodies pushing them further down until they landed with a thud. Shadows raced around them, sliding, tiny hands scratched and tugged. The shadows leapt and smothered them cackling with glee as their screams were muffled under the onslaught. All the time they could see two glowing eyes staring.

"Sarah." A voice hissed, but it was the wrong name. Confusion turned to panic, they're bodies were frozen, watching and feeling as creatures tore at their skin and flesh but unable to stop it…

"I'm sorry Sarah. We shouldn't have treated you like that Yesterday-" The girl's eyes darted around, searching the room, jumping at the slightest movement. She'd been the third to apologise this morning. I just smiled understandingly. It was quite obvious what had happened.

My confidence had risen after all these years and now no one saw me as a victim. I was almost grateful then, but I remembered.

He'd stolen my brother.

He didn't deserve my gratitude.

I was starting to think maybe I shouldn't have taken her memories. When I first took them I was overjoyed to see her regain some of her naiveté, I convinced myself that this was her second chance. Of course, I didn't quite take into account the effect a child's trust in an almost grown body, the effect on her... and other people.

It made some hate her outright, resenting what they had lost through their own mistakes.

It made some manipulate her, take advantage.

And it made precious few love her.

Which, after all, was what she really needed, or rather, she needed evidence of it, because she was certainly more loved than any of those other pathetic mortals.

Perhaps a gift... ah, it would be amusing to see how she would react if I tried that again. She very much relied on first impressions, you see, this time around I hadn't really made the right-

No.

I decided to take a short-cut home from school. The subway didn't smell very nice, but it was a much quicker way. I had decided that the magic in the air yesterday was Jareth. He was trying to entice me back there- but I would not go. No matter how much I wanted to, it was a trick and I would defeat him again.

I was so caught up in my musing that I didn't notice a man until he almost staggered into me. His eyes were unfocused, so I was a little concerned.

"Are you alright?" I asked, grasping his arm. He grinned and his reeking breath washed out f his moth and filled my nose. I coughed slightly trying not to be rude, although he was scaring me. He leant forwards a little more until I almost fell over from his weight.

A white owl swooped down and landed on his head, scratching viciously.

"Jareth? Jareth, stop!" I cried, furious. How dare he?

Sure enough, the owl stopped but with a small pop, none of the effects I had seen in the Labyrinth, the man was gone and Jareth himself stood in his place.

"How dare you?!" I raged. "I was trying to help him and you get all jealous-"

Jareth watched me, something like confusion in his gaze. I supposed he was trying to trick me again. I gasped as I realized something, I had said his name.

There was only one thing to do.

I had read that the Fae do not respond well to Cold Iron or Salt. I didn't have Iron, but after yesterday, I had filled my pockets with salt and I threw it at him. It made him take a step or two back and the skin of his wrist touched the railing behind him. It must have been Iron, because he screamed as though he were in agony. I felt guilty but then remembered what he had done to that poor man.

Jareth seemed to almost dissolve before my eyes, and with him, all his power left the Mortal World.

My heart constricted as emotions I had not felt for years filled it and broke it all over again.

I understood what I had failed to before and the pain was so great it was all I could do to crumple to the filthy ground, my hair soaking up the grime.

And I cried because that's what children do when they're forced to grow up, I had forgotten that I was already grown.

It would be the last time I cried, I silently vowed when the pain lessened enough for me to think.

Several hours later the Police found me, still pressed on the ground. Asleep.

I would have thought of Snow White or Sleeping Beauty, but I remembered the other stories now. A tragedy when even my fairy tales desert me.

They called it a coma. I didn't care.

I didn't care about anything anymore.

Jareth

It took me months to recover.

Months of endless worrying, most of which I spent unable to even watch her.

Watching, I found, was worse. I could see her dying, slipping away from me even as I sat in a soft bed and she in a cold, white room.

Her skin was as pale as the room and her bones protruded; those mortals could do nothing for her.

I waited until I was finally strong enough to make the trip and appeared at the foot of her bed. I carefully disentangled her from the awful metals the mortals had pushed into her flesh and tried to lift her away from the iron.

I trembled from the effort but I didn't dare waste the magic.

I shifted us away.

I had no idea where we landed, but we did. Just before I slipped into unconsciousness; my precious Sarah opened her glorious eyes and whispered my name, her face lighting up. So beautiful and ethereal it made my heart ache to look at her.

As I faded away it didn't matter where we were or what would happen.

We would survive.