A Room Of My Own: A Priscilla Ingfor Story

Hello,

This is A.

Le Fay of Sylvanosity and I'm going to share a story called A Room of My Own,

A Priscilla Ingfor story.

Before I share the story,

Let's explore something.

Do you have a room of your own?

A place that is only yours,

Where you can create,

Imagine,

And wonder.

Do you ever wonder,

Is there magic in this place of yours?

If that magic exists,

Where does it reside?

Is there something in your room you've always been curious about?

What if?

Well,

Priscilla spent most of her life having to share a room with her two younger sisters,

Who were not easy roommates.

Many of you may have to share your space with others,

And sometimes that can be a very good thing,

And sometimes it can be a very trying thing,

When your roommates don't respect your space,

Or they ruin something you love dearly,

Or they won't be quiet when it's time to rest.

Whatever the troubles,

Sometimes we can allow our annoyance to prevent us from seeing the things we love about the people we share our space with,

And sometimes we get wonderful opportunities to have a space of our own.

If not in the reality of our everyday life,

Then in our imagination and our ability to believe in possibility.

With these things in mind,

Let's begin a room of my own,

A Priscilla Ingfor story.

Hooray!

Priscilla didn't have to share a room with her little sisters,

Greta and Rosie,

Anymore.

No more dollies bathing in her blue backpack.

No more need for tape boundaries on the floor.

No changing in the bathroom.

Priscilla would finally have a room all to herself,

In their new house on Sylvan Lane,

In the most wooded subdivision in all of Lakeford.

Their house was the only one on the cul-de-sac,

And her new room faced a backyard so thick with trees,

It might be the start of a forest an elf could get lost in.

And her room had everything.

An adjoining bathroom,

A double closet,

A window seat,

Built-in bookcase,

Carpets so thick it felt like walking on furry foam.

Three of the walls were her favorite shade of periwinkle blue,

And one wall had hand-painted flowers so real she nearly leaned forward and smelled one.

These petaled fineries came as a bonus because she never even saw them when they toured the house before they bought it.

She loved every inch of her room,

And the new furniture her parents let her pick out herself was a double bonus.

It had a seawater aqua finish that made her half-imagined fish would float through them.

Her little sisters Greta and Rosie shared a room on the first floor.

She didn't even hear their fight over who got what side of the closet after she shut her door.

Curling up in her window seat she let her eyes wander through the tree trunks and imagined taking a walk,

Her feet crunching over twigs,

Her eyes staring up into the leaves glowing with sunlight,

And listening to the squirrels scurry about.

Oh how she wished she could take that walk.

She'd have to wait for tomorrow though.

For now she was supposed to unpack at least three boxes before bed.

Her mom promised a full Ing for family breakfast the next morning with pancakes,

Eggs,

Ham,

And Priscilla's favorite orange marmalade toast.

She could almost taste its tart sweet tang as she unpacked her school supplies into her brand-new aqua desk.

That finished off her last box of the day.

Pencils aligned and sharpened,

Erasers squared away,

Folders organized,

Paper stacked and crease free.

She slipped into her favorite toasty pajamas and brushed her teeth in the bathroom she could walk right through from her own bedroom.

With a good night to her parents plus Greta and Rosie who are battling over a bedtime story Priscilla went to her room to read.

As Priscilla turned each page she'd sigh and pause to listen to nothing,

Not a thing.

Her room was here a paperclip drop quiet.

Finishing a chapter she leaned into her stacked up fluffy pillows and said,

Thank you.

Shutting off the light,

Stretching out her muscles,

Saying her prayers,

Priscilla got ready to go to sleep.

She closed her eyes.

Silence filled the room.

No flipping and turning from her left.

Rosie earned her nickname as the tiring tornado.

No one sang a note from her right.

Greta usually tried singing silly made-up songs under her breath but she always belted out her favorite lines.

It never took long before Priscilla would arch her back and bellow,

Just go to sleep.

That night she whispered it,

Just go to sleep,

And realized that she could do just that,

Go to sleep.

The only problem was she couldn't.

Even snuggling into her fluffy pillows in her comfy pajamas didn't allow her to slide off to sleep.

Not after five minutes of mentally reciting her favorite poem,

Sleep deep among a pasture full of slumbering sheep.

The stars above wink wink to say no worries loved-of,

We'll watch over you until the light of day.

Sleep tight through the darkening night and then,

Only then,

When dawn brightens the day,

The fun begins again.

The poem usually settled her mind and allowed her to drift off,

But this time it didn't even produce a yawn.

Ten minutes later her nose itched,

Her feet started to twitch after 15 minutes.

A few minutes later she heard a sound,

A soft swoosh swoosh.

Like the movement of fabric she strained to hear it again,

Swoosh swoosh.

She sat up to see if she'd left the window open.

The curtain hung silent and still,

Swink.

It looked like one of the flowers on her wall moved.

Did something fall out of a box and get carried on a breeze past the wall?

Swink,

Swink.

A small flower fluttered as if waving to her.

Priscilla backed to the other side of her bed,

Pointing she said,

That's not possible.

Was it to prove her wrong the flower bent again,

Even further down the wall?

Was the thing a sticker and it had started to come off?

Yes,

That had to be it.

Getting out of bed she planned to press it back into place,

But when she touched it she didn't feel smooth paper.

She felt the waxy softness of a petal,

A purpley-blue periwinkle petal.

Pressing it she expected to meet the wall,

But her fingers tingled as they passed through the paint.

Yanking her hand back she gripped it with the other hand as her fingers felt like they did when her hand started to wake up after it had fallen asleep.

No pain,

Just little prickles,

Like she had tiny popping bubbles under her skin.

The flower continued to twist forward,

Then back like little Rosie trying to get comfortable in bed,

And in a swoosh of wind the flower was pulled right through the wall.

On instinct Priscilla lunged to catch it and fell,

Landing not on her furry foamy carpet,

But in loamy green moss.

Sparkly bubbles of suspense started popping in her chest.

Spinning onto her backside she saw trees and trees and a clearing in the distance.

Sunlight streamed through the tall oaky giants,

Almost as if they pointed to the grassy sunny oasis.

Flipping,

She searched frantically for the flower,

Foolishly thinking that if she found it she'd be whisked back home.

Where is it?

Where is it?

Where be what?

Came a soft accented voice from behind her.

She turned to face a.

.

.

Uh.

.

.

Name be Niebore.

Happy helping.

What be looking?

The yellow vested fellow offering his assistance stood about three feet tall,

With a rounded belly,

Tan pants with leather patches at the knees,

And mossy brown hair on his pudgy toes that matched the fur covering his entire body,

Except his wide cat-like ears with white tufts at the tips.

He smiled,

His yellow eyes sparkling.

You be other sider?

He asked,

Making a rising,

Almost musical noise that sounded like yeees.

Other sider?

Find wall flower full?

Uh.

.

.

Yes.

Welcome Alsillienia.

Tree land.

He held his furry hands towards the canopy around them.

How?

The word just popped out like a thought bubble head burst.

Flowers purtkey?

They poof.

Poof?

Did he mean disappear or appear?

I never saw them before we moved in today.

Yeees,

He nodded.

That noise must mean yes.

He added,

When Sylvania time be done,

They poof another child.

He sighed and tucked his thumb into his vests.

Poor Aude be I Sylvanian to make acquaintance.

Huh?

I be first means be guide.

He stiffened and saluted.

Niebore,

Æserred,

Ælfol,

Help it.

Standing and dusting herself off,

Priscilla said,

Thank you?

Still a little unsure of this whole situation.

Plus,

His way of speaking took a little bit to translate.

Troubles?

Child comes trouble toting?

You mean besides finding out there's a portal to another world in my bedroom?

Flower purkeys be trouble?

Taking in the calm and fighting forest that looks so much like the trees behind her house.

She said,

I guess not.

True trouble?

His furry face looked so soft and kind.

Um,

I can't sleep?

That is unless she was actually sleeping at that moment and this was just a dream that included a twig stuck painfully between her toes.

Ouch!

Yanking out,

She saw a spot of blood.

Nope,

Not dreaming.

That really hurt.

Aww.

He waved over her shoulder and started walking towards the clearing.

Following?

Her training in not trusting strangers flared.

Should she trust this little creature?

Seeing that she didn't follow,

He turned back.

He frowned in confusion for a moment then said,

Oh,

For kidding.

He looked around asking,

Sea flower trunk?

What?

She looked.

The tree trunks had the pattern of flowers in them as if they bloomed through the wood itself.

Oh.

Searching,

She found a periwinkle.

Pointing at it,

She said,

This one.

Tapping,

He wrapped the air.

She knocked.

The sound of Greta singing came from within the tree.

Scratching at the blooms,

She pulled open a tiny door shouting,

Greta?

Who be Greta?

My sister.

Hmm.

She be tree?

Right.

Greta couldn't shrink to fit within that tree.

Priscilla looked inside,

Seeing what looked like a flashlight and she heard what could only be Rosie tossing and turning.

She almost wish she would make sure she could make sure Rosie hadn't dropped putty tat,

Her favorite stuffty.

The flashlight thingy glowed periwinkle.

Oh,

Jumping past,

She asked,

What is that?

A necessary.

Necessary for what?

Need have,

Need come.

Light,

Protection,

Any be.

If necessary,

True necessary,

It come.

Priscilla gripped the necessary and willed her room to appear.

Seconds passed.

It didn't change.

Nothing is happening.

What?

Oh,

Need.

Now the little creature sounded like her mother when Priscilla asked her for her own cell phone.

Oh,

She shrugged,

What I really need are my slides.

My feet hurt.

Plip plop.

A pair of periwinkle slides fell to the ground.

Seeing?

Necessary was now no bigger than a compass.

Wow.

Going,

He waved and started off towards the clearing.

Slipping into the slides,

They felt warm on her feet.

Nice.

She wished her world had necessaries.

Can I take this home with me?

No.

Sylvan stay,

Sylvan outsider,

No mix.

But I'm here with you.

Hey,

How do you know English?

Practice,

He trailed his pea.

We Sylvans practice beguide.

Few flowered ones come.

I worry never me.

He hopped and spun,

Bought me.

He put his hands over his heart,

Thanking name.

Her stranger danger alarm went off again.

He pointed,

Fear eyeing.

Tapping it,

He said,

Necessary giving defend.

No need.

He hugged himself.

I safe.

She gripped the necessary and said,

You can call me P.

P,

He smiled.

Following?

He stepped to the side,

Opening his arm towards the clearing.

He walked in that direction,

Checking to see if she followed.

He sauntered up to a stump that was shorter than her and four times as wide as him.

He opened the oval door and said,

Coming?

She was about to say that'd be a pretty tight squeeze,

But saw that the room inside was cozy and plenty large enough for a table,

Two armchairs,

End tables,

A well-lit fireplace and more.

Now that was some room sizing magic.

Wow.

Priscilla stepped into the cozy warmth,

Feeling like she'd walked through a thin layer of static as she passed inside the door.

Don't get up on our account,

You lazy scurmy.

Niebore clicked his tongue as he went to the cupboard.

Some watchman he is.

Um,

Your voice is different,

Priscilla said,

As a furry black face near the fireplace lifted off white paws.

The scurmy blinked its hourly eyes,

Sniffed back to sleep.

Niebore chuckled.

Guess that means you're safe.

He spun a glowing glass ball on the table.

Inside I speak my native tongue,

But you hear the words in yours.

Thanks to this all are welcome here stone.

Wow,

She loved this place.

Have a seat.

She sat.

Boy oh boy was that chair warm and sleepy cozy.

He dropped what looked like twigs into cups,

Then went to the fire and used a mitt to grab a metal teapot dangling over the flames and poured in hot water to the cups.

Setting the mug on the table he said,

It'll taste like cinnamon tea.

Blowing on it she gave it a try.

Oh and it did.

Sweet roll yummy cinnamon.

Thank you.

So any clues as to why you can't sleep?

New house?

Perhaps.

New room?

Maybe.

She shrugged.

You said a name when you found your necessary.

Why?

I heard her singing.

This Greta,

My little sister.

Does she usually sing when it's bedtime?

Every night.

Priscilla rolled her eyes.

Maybe you like it more than you thought.

Don't be silly.

I hated it.

Oh are you sure?

What song did she sing?

That's just it.

They weren't songs.

Just things she made up about her day.

I went shopping for shoes and my new sandals are glittery sweet on my feet.

Priscilla sang and Greta's sing-song off-key voice.

A squawk in the corner startled Priscilla.

Then a brightly colored bird pulled its head out from under its wing and repeated what she sang,

Making it into a soothing sound.

Not once,

Not twice,

But three times.

Slower and sweeter each time until Priscilla found her eyes fluttering at the third go-round of sweet on my feet.

I miss Greta's singing.

Wow I never thought I'd say that.

Thank you my love dove,

I bore said to the bird.

That's a love dove.

It most certainly is.

The bird preened its feathers changing colors as it did.

Priscilla pointed.

It's like an emotional what is it called chameleon.

Its feathers change colors with how it feels.

Cool.

Priscilla yawned.

I think I could fall asleep right here.

Do you think this thing will show me the way?

She tried to look at the compass size necessary and realized she held a periwinkle flower in her hand.

How'd that get there?

You solved the problem that brought you here and believe you me they won't all be that easy.

All?

Aye.

I'll wager you'll be back soon enough.

I will.

If you need to.

I want to.

Especially if it meant coming back and meeting creatures like Niebore and a scrum,

Whatchamacallit,

And a love dove and drinking such scrumptious tea.

Well for tonight sleeping seems the right thing to do don't you think?

Yawning she said I sure do.

Then peek a petal.

He pointed to the flower.

Are you sure I can come back?

The scrummy creature looked up and waved its tail.

I the wager a winter's worth of that tea on it.

Taking a step it felt warm all the way down.

Good.

Thanks for everything Niebore she said but he faded away before she even got to his name.

In fact she said it out loud to her empty room.

She stood with bare feet and petals besides her toes.

She turned to find a blank spot on her wall.

Gazing over the wall she realized she had a dozen or more maybe even dozens of flowers left.

Would she really be able to go back to that magical forest that many times?

She wondered as she slipped under her cozy covers her limbs heavy.

Her lips warm with the tune of Greta's silly shoe song.

She only repeated the lines a few more times before she drifted off to sleep with the melodic voice of a loved-up cooing in her ears.

Her last thought was that she couldn't wait to tell Greta and Rosie about her adventure over marmalade toast.

Thank you so much for listening to this story and sharing this story with me.

It's called A Room of My Own,

A Priscilla Ingfor story.

I hope you enjoyed meeting Priscilla and Niebore and maybe just maybe another one of their tales may come along.

In the meantime I'd like you to think about the places that make you happy and the people you share them with.

Are there things about those people you thought annoyed you to no end but you really may appreciate them secretly inside?

If so maybe tomorrow you might let that someone know how much you appreciate them because I bet they also appreciate you.

I know I do.

Thank you listeners for sharing this story with me.

This is A Lefay of Sylvanosity.

If you like this story I hope you'll check out other stories of mine on Insight Timer.

I write stories as well so I hope you'll check them out.

Maybe you could visit my website at alefay.

Com or perhaps you might find me at Sylvanosity on Facebook,

Instagram or Twitter.

If you do let me know you were introduced to me on Insight Timer but for now I'll say goodbye and until next time.