Juliet ignored the other wrestlers, favouring notebook and pencil. A face was appearing on the page. The same face as on every other page.

She couldn't escape it. At night, in her sleep, it watched her. While awake, it haunted her, filling her with a sense of indefinable loss.

She didn't hate the face. Not that lovely, pretty face with pointed ears. It whispered the secrets of her heart to her. But she was beginning to hate herself. She couldn't understand why she had these secrets...

The fairies hadn't realised that some things, though forgotten, will always leave a mark.