Fairy by Shane McKenzie

her pillow, all she found were bloodstains. She reached down, winced when she touched between her legs. It felt like someone had taken a power sander to her.
    She shuffled to her window, poked her head out. The placenta still hung there, dried up like a prune. The wall was coated in dark, crusted juice, and she knew she’d have to get that cleaned up before a neighbor saw it.
    She reached out, plucked the placenta from the nail, made her way to the kitchen. Skittles still stood on the other side of the glass door, sitting on her haunches and whining.
    â€œOh, honey, Mama’s so sorry.” After everything that had happened, she’d forgotten all about the Great Dane. She let Skittles inside; the dog ran straight for her water dish and lapped up the water. Cecilia walked to the sink, dropped the placenta into the garbage disposal and flipped the switch. The spinning metal made quick work of it, and, just like that, all evidence of the fairy was gone.
    Except for the cold heaviness in her belly.
    Her grin could have punctured her eyes as she ran her palms across her stomach. A high-pitched giggle seeped from between her teeth, and soon she was cackling and holding herself up by the counter.
    Judy was right. It was well worth it. She couldn’t wait to see her, thank her, hug her.
    â€œCome here, honey. Come to Mama, Skittles.” She sat on the kitchen floor, gasped at the pain, then clapped her hands and held her arms out.
    But the dog lowered her head, stared at the spot between Cecilia’s legs. And growled.
    â€œSkittles, that’s enough. Come here.”
    The dog whined, her tail tucked under, and took slow, careful steps toward Cecilia. Skittles flinched when Cecilia placed a hand on the dog’s head, then lowered her nose and sniffed at the sore spot.
    â€œSkittles—”
    At the sudden burst of voice, the dog yelped and ran off. Cecilia picked herself up, shuffled to the living room where the dog was huddled in a corner, shaking so hard that needles of hair were falling out. She growled, low and deep, and stared at Cecilia’s midsection with hard eyes.
    â€œBad girl,” Cecilia said. “You stay in that corner then if you’re gonna act like that.”
    Cecilia stomped toward her bedroom, shut the door, sat on the edge of her bed. That earthy, pumpkin smell still lingered in the air, and she breathed it in, mentally thanking the fairy. The puncture wounds on the sides of her hips had scabbed over, and she ran her fingertips across them, hissed and pulled away.
    She reached over and swiped her cell phone from the end table and quickly dialed Judy’s number. Her skin tingled with excitement as the phone started ringing, but it went to voice mail.
    Must be with a client or something.
    After the outgoing message and the beep, Cecilia said, “Hey, Judy. Just wanted to call and let you know I survived. I can’t wait to talk to you about it. Give me a call, okay?”
    I’ll call the office, just in case she’s there.
    And she did, but Rhonda answered.
    â€œHey, Rhonda, it’s Cecilia. Is Judy in?”
    â€œDidn’t show up. Had some appointments too.”
    â€œDid she call?”
    â€œNope. But we’ve got some unhappy clients, I can tell you that. You find her, tell her to get her ass here.”
    â€œYeah…okay. If she shows up, have her call me, all right?”
    â€œMmm hmm.” Click.
    Cecilia furrowed her brow, scratched her head. This did not seem like Judy at all. Rhonda had mentioned the other day that Judy said she might be out for more than one day to take care of Billy, but she surely would have called in to let everyone know. Judy wouldn’t just no-show like that.
    Billy’s grinning face sliding across the wooden poles of the staircase crashed through her thoughts, and she jumped up, winced from the twisting pain, nearly collapsed to the floor. She took a deep breath, collected herself, quickly threw on