✨Welcome to Bree's World 🔌

Behind an ordinary electrical outlet lives a tiny fairy named Bree. She is invisible to the humans around her. Every day, she quietly observes their lives—discovering beauty, mystery, and wonder in the smallest moments.

These pages tell her adventures. If this is your first visit, you’ve come at the perfect time.

I’d love to introduce you to her.

Bree’s Diary Is Opening Soon…

Bree has many more stories to tell.

Soon, you’ll be able to receive:

📖 8 new stories & adventures every month
🎨 8 exclusive illustrations every month
💬 Access to the Bree Diary community

Only, it is a light that burns... and one that can kill.

Little Bree doesn’t like the idea of playing with fire.

It goes against her nature.

And yet, she longs to remember all the things she has forgotten.

“Isn’t there another way?” she wonders, resting her cheeks in the palms of her hands as she stares at the blue wire for h…

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As she happily fluttered around her usual blue electrical wire, a sharp pain shot through her right hand in the blink of an eye. Thankfully, it wasn’t serious, but the shock was enough to make her lose consciousness for a few moments.

A few moments that seemed to last forever.

A few moments that carried her back to her former life.

Back to the Fairy Hive—that world she had left so many months... perhaps even years... ago that she could no longer remember.

“2R55!“

A piercing voice rang out.

“The tooth you’ve brought back is completely rotten! What are we supposed to do with it? It’s fit only for the ants. They adore sugar!”

“Mistress...” Bree murmured, lowering her head, her long eyelashes fluttering so rapidly they seemed to blink hundreds of times in her confusion.

“I swear I didn’t do it on purpose! It was the tooth I found under the pillow!”

“That’s the third one in a row! There can’t be this much bad luck.”

Bree pouted, unable to decide whether she should answer or remain silent.

Keeping quiet would spare her another scolding...

But how humiliating it was.

Speaking meant exposing her heart to more blows.

She drew a deep breath, her eyes already filling with tears.

“Mistress... I’m sorry, but...”

“But...” her superior echoed.

She was a tall, slender fairy, as thin as a strand of spaghetti, made even taller by the pointed hat balanced atop her graying hair.

“It’s a little boy who never listens to his parents. He hides whole packets of biscuits and chocolate bars beneath his bed. I saw them—I swear I did! I even tried to hide them somewhere else, but they were much too heavy. I even thought about eating them myself, to spare him the pain of ruining his teeth... and to spare myself your severity.”

“My poor child...” the fairy replied in an unexpectedly gentle voice.

“So tell me... did you prefer the biscuits... or the chocolate bars?”

Before Bree could answer—

“You foolish little fairy!”

The executioner-fairy’s voice cracked through the room like a whip.

“Perhaps that’s your real problem! You’re always trying to do too much. It isn’t your job to save that boy from his greed! Do what your more capable sisters do. At night, while those little brats sleep with their mouths open, give their baby teeth a little wiggle! A fairy’s duty certainly isn’t to hand out coins for half-rotten teeth!”

“Yes, Mistress Luna,” Bree whispered.

She had no strength left to argue.

Besides... what would have been the point?

“If the next tooth isn’t sparkling white, you’ll be spending some time in your cell. And I won’t be setting a date for your release.”

A tear rolled down Bree’s cheek as she slowly opened her eyes, her tiny hand still throbbing.

It was only a flashback.

She sat up and watched the sunlight filtering through the tiny holes of the electrical outlet she had made her home, hidden inside the bedroom of the human she was getting to know a little better every day.

So many memories... forgotten, she thought as she stood up, gently shaking the dust from her little wings.

And yet... I have to remember.

Then an unexpected idea crossed her mind.

An idea that made her shiver with delight.

And at the very same moment...

An idea that sent a chill down her spine.

Perched on a cork that somehow found its way there, though she has no idea how, she quietly observes the life of a young girl with long, straight blonde hair. She watches her and wonders. She watches her and grows curious about her life—what she does, what she tells her friends, and even what she says when she talks to herself, never realizing that someone is listening.

Of course, Bree doesn’t watch her every moment. Whenever the girl changes clothes—which she does rather often—Bree politely closes her eyes.

The girl never seems satisfied with what she’s wearing. Within the span of half an hour, she would change outfits dozens of times, studying herself in the mirror after every new attempt.

“It must be a human fashion,” Bree thinks.

Bree herself owns only one little white dress.

Yet it suits her perfectly. Besides, it is made of beeswax and woven from silk threads—crafted by fairy hands, no less

When Bree left the Fairy Hive, she first made her home in the house of a little boy.

He was about six years old, a little chubby, but as sweet as could be.

His room contained an enormous bookcase that reached almost all the way to the ceiling. A narrow gap of only a few inches above the highest shelf gave Bree just enough room to settle in.

After blowing away all the dust that had gathered there—coughing for hours in the process—she finally delighted in having such a wide, white laminated space all to herself.

All it needed were a few rose and tulip petals to make a comfortable bed and brighten the place, and it would have been perfect.

Unfortunately, it took only a few days for Bree to realize she could never stay there for long.

The little boy always had a hand in his mouth and constantly talked about the teeth that would soon fall out and the money he would find beneath his pillow.

That was when Bree became frightened of herself.

She feared slipping back into a trance and, before she even realized it, flying out into the night to carry out the purpose she had once lived for...

Trading teeth for coins.

She feared being drawn back to the Fairy Hive without even knowing it, only to lose her freedom forever.

But that wasn’t her only fear.

She also dreaded the day one of her fairy sisters would come gliding into the room after the boy had carefully tucked one of his baby teeth beneath his pillow.

She could already picture a swarm of fairies swooping down upon her, armed with nets and thorny spears, dragging her back by force before Mistress Luna.

Bree would rather die than see that day come.

So, in the end, she moved.

Following the trail of a remarkably friendly mouse, she made her way through the walls of the house. Then, out into the icy evening air, she took flight, crossed the street, and slipped through the very first open window she came across.

That was how she found herself in Sora’s lovely bedroom.

After taking a quick look around to judge the place, she darted like an arrow into a small opening above an electrical outlet.

That little hiding place had become her own tiny cocoon—for now, at least, until the day she might spread her wings toward other horizons.

For the moment, what reassures her most is that Sora seems happy, even if she spends hours changing clothes.

Bree cannot bear arguments or shouting, and the young girl leads a peaceful life.

Better still, Sora appears to have all of her adult teeth.

Except, perhaps, for her wisdom teeth.

But those are nothing to worry about.

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Not even Bree herself.

The truth is, Bree has lost part of her memory. She no longer remembers where she came from. And because she doesn’t know where she came from, she has no idea where she’s meant to go.

That’s why she’s a little fairy, fluttering here and there, up and down, without any real destination.

But while she waits for her memories to return, she at least takes the time... to breathe in the fragrance of flowers. To marvel at the morning sun just after it rises, before its light becomes too bright for the eyes.

She also takes the time to observe.

Every little detail of life fascinates her, and she often finds herself wondering,

“Perhaps, with time, I’ll be able to piece together the scattered pieces of my life.”

No one knows Bree.

Not even I, the one telling her story.