Looking back, you wish that you appreciated more the good old days before they actually became the good old days. After all, not everyone could fly like you. Growing up, you didn't know you came from a long line of fairies. You stumbled upon it long ago as you rummaged through your grandma's old things. All you had to do was believe. And all the magic that came with being a fairy followed. Those sure were good times. Or so you think. Now that you're old and grey, people are saying otherwise. People even say you're showing signs of dementia. Was it all just hallucinations? You start to doubt yourself. If you really are a fairy, why did you age? And when did you forget how to fly? Each day that passes makes it even harder for you to recall your fading memories. You search for old pictures and clues to help your case. Everybody else says your imagination is just running wild; but you really do believe in fairies. You believe in yourself. Time is running out. Don't let go. You're almost there.