Chapter 11: Confessions

“Maybe we should start by telling our secrets.” Dionne looked at Elvis and Frankie. “You know. Tell each other something about ourselves that we haven’t told anyone else.” 

“Yeah. Alright.” Elvis scratched his head and walked in between Elvis and Frankie. “I’ll go first.” He cleared his throat. “For the longest time, I’ve been telling people that my dream is to be a comedian or a performer of some kind. But that’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Dionne asked.

“Thank goodness.” Frankie snorted. “There might be hope for you yet.”

“Very funny.” Elvis rolled his eyes. “The truth is I really want to be a mentor for elvin kids who need a little extra attention and someone to help them realize their dreams. I think I could make a real difference.”

“That’s so sweet.” Dionne sniffled and wipe a tear away from her eyes. “And all this time I thought you were this obnoxious elf with a tacky sense of humor.”

“I am.” Elvis replied. “But I’d rather be a mentor.”

Frankie hopped up on an old picnic table, crossed her legs and pulled out a nail file.


“Well that’s great for you. But revealing your secret has done nothing to stop the erasers.” 

“Hey! You two dames still have to reveal your secrets.” Elvis puffed out his chest and hiked up his pants.


“I can’t fix this all by myself. And believe me, I’d love nothing more than to take credit for saving the day. The elvin kids would love hearing a story like this.”

“All right.” Dionne took a step forward. “I’ll go next.” Dionne’s tail swished back and forth. “Last week, I became the fire department’s newest recruit.”

Frankie stopped filing her nails. “Um….you do realize that the purpose of a firefighter is to put out fires and not start them, right?”

“Yes. I’m tired of always destroying things. I want to help people. And being a firefighter is going to be perfect for me.”

“How so?” Elvis folded his arms across his chest. 

“I’m not afraid of fires. Flying into a burning building wouldn’t scare me.”

Elvis nodded and then glanced down at the book. “Look. It’s changing.”


Words began filling the pages of the book. One by one, each chapter developed a beginning, a middle, and an end.”

“Is it your cousin, Mabel?” Dionne asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Guys.” Frankie jumped down. “Maybe we should stop all this confessing stuff. What if instead of freeing ourselves we actually make things worse?”

“Don’t you remember?” Dionne asked. “Mabel said that by confessing our innermost secrets we would destroy the Erasers.”

“Come on, Frankie.” Elvis pushed his way in between the fairy and the dragon. “It’s your turn. One more confession and then we can escape this book and get back to our own stories.”

“Yeah, Frankie.” Dionne coughed back a fireball. “Tell us your secret.”

“Secret. Ha! You couldn’t handle it.”

“Try us,” Elvis said.

“Fine. It’s no secret that I’m not for this stupid game because of its consequences.”

Elvis and Dionne exchanged confused looks.

“What consequences?” Dionne asked.

Frankie’s face morphed from an aggravated look to malicious. “You and your stupid ambitions about being a firefighter.” She jabbed Dionne in the chest. “Who ever heard of a dragon working as a firefighter? That makes about as much sense as Robin Hood stealing from the rich to give to the poor. He’s never going to get rich if he keeps giving all of his loot away. You want to know what my secret is. Get ready.”


“I am an eraser.” Frankie declared. In one swift motion, she ripped off her yoga outfit, revealing a black suit underneath. “And there will be no stopping me.”

Elvis and Dionne gasped.

“What are you going to do?” Dionne looked around nervously.

“I’m going to take fiction books everywhere, erase their stories and write new ones. And I’m going to start with this one.” She cackled.


Dionne ran over to Elvis, trying to hide her large, dragon body behind his tiny, elvin frame.

“Yeah, well.” Elvis cracked his knuckles. “You’re forgetting a few things.”

“Like what?” Frankie stared Elvis down.

“Like this!”


Elvis punched Frankie, sending her flying through the air.

“My mother always told me never to hit a lady.” He shook out his hand. “It’s a good thing you’re not a real one.” He took off his cloak and tossed it on top of Frankie. “Dionne. Get over here. It’s time to make a wish.”

(To Be Continued)

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