A/N: Okay, I am typing this up at school, which is really weird.  It is Creative Writing.  This is writing, and it is creative (sorta), so why wouldn't I be allowed to type this up?  I guess I could even hand this in for a mark!  That would be fun, asides from the fact that my teacher has probably never read Artemis Fowl and will be very confused about the characters only being fairies, and me not informing everyone that.  Hehe… I really should hand this in, just to be annoying!  Tell me what you think in your review, okay, okay?  Oh yeah, if there are any typos, it is because the school's keyboards are really stiff, and you have to pound on the keys, and I type faster than the computer runs.  There is also a delay time between typing the word/letter and it appearing on the screen, so my typing really sucks right now.

Disclaimer:  I do not own Holly and Root.  I might own Holly's mom and dad, but, I don't think so.  The more accurate version: I don't own Holly, Root, Primrose (Holly's mom) and Cedar (Holly's dad).  I WANNA OWN CEDAR!!!! HE IS COOL!!  Okay, I will start the story now…

PS:  It's in Holly's POV

*~*~*~*~*

            Sighing, I thought, how could this be possible?  How could Cedar, my father, my beloved father be dead?  Why was this happening?  I block out the guy speaking about how great of a man Captain Cedar Short was.  I bet that he never has even talked to dad.  I pummel into the abyss of my thoughts, which were usually bright and cheery.  But today, my thoughts were dark and confused, as they have been since the shock of dad's death wore off.

            Why did he die?  No.  That question can't be answered.  It is not the question to ask.  The correct question is; how did he die?  And along that line, why hasn't anyone told me how he died?  Why do people treat me like I am mad with grief whenever I ask questions about my father's death?  I deserve to know.  I am his daughter.  His only child.  I am so close to him.  He helped me so much and in so many ways.  Why didn't I say that I love him?  Hell, bloody hell.  I'll say it anyways.  I LOVE YOU DAD!  I ALWAYS HAVE, AND ALWAYS WILL! Oh Dad!  Where are you?  When will you come back?

            It is mother's fault.  It is her fault that I don't know how you died.  Why won't she tell me?  I am old enough to know.  I will understand.  Does she think I will go crazy know about your death?  I will go crazy not knowing how you died!  Oh, Mother!  Can't you see?  Not knowing how Dad died is hurting me so much!  Please tell me!  Someone!  Please…

            It hurts so much that Dad died.  The pain, it's unbearable.  Help me, someone!  Nobody, nobody understand how I feel!  Everyone pities me, says they are sorry about my father, and say that they will help me in everyway they can.  Then they leave.  Thank Frond for the leaving part.  The ones that who try to talk to me… Arrgghh!

            "Holly, Holly!  It's your turn!" My mother, Primrose, hissed in my ear.  My turn? Oh, I have to recite my poem now.  I stand up and walk stiffly to the podium with my head up.  I adjust the mike and with my voice firm and resolute, unlike everyone else, I begin to recite my poem.

            "My Father

            My Father
            Gone
            like the seeds on a dandelion
            scattered off into the winds

            My Father
            Dead
            for reasons I can't comprehend
            nor will I try to

            My Father
            Away
            on a trip to another place
            without me

            My Father
            Gone, Dead, Away
            why did he go?
            why don't I know?
            why not me?
            why did he leave?
            why do people go away?

            And leave the living
            in grief

            My Father
            My Father
            My Father

            I miss you."

            I end my poem and walk back to my seat.  Damn I feel like an idiot.  Slowly I drift back into my thoughts and ignore the rest of the ceremony.

*~*~*~*~*

            "I am so sorry about your father, Holly," yet another fairy said.  Arrgghh!  Why can't they just leave me alone?

            "Okay… Well, I will just go over here now," the fairy said, obviously unnerved by my bland and lifeless stare.  I look hungrily over at the food table.  I can hear my mother's voice in my ear saying, Holly, don't eat anything.  Then I say, why? And she says, just because.  I guess Commander Root saw me staring at the food, because he picked up three cookies and started walking towards me.

            "Do you want one?" Root asks, as if we were at a picnic, not a funeral.

            "Thank you," I reply.

            "Cedar loves this kind of cookie," Root comments.

            "Yes, so do I," I mumble over a mouth full of cookie.

            "He is a great man, Cedar, a great man," Root sighs.

            "I notice that you are talking about Dad in present tense," I say.

            "Of course, it is not like he is actually gone.  He is still here," Root says.  Amazing, he looks at it like I do.

            "Yeah.  Dad is here.  He is all around us, rooting for us to get on with life," I said, then realized what I said, "Rooting..."  Root and I look at each other and I have this crazy urge to laugh.  I think Root does too.  We both walk, rather quickly, outside.  We both start to laugh like what I said is actually funny.

            "There is your father, Holly," Root said, after we had quieted down.

            "Yeah, that is exactly the sorta thing he always laughs at," I said, "I wish I knew how he died, though."

            Root looks at me for a few moments, then says, "There is a full moon tonight."

            "I better do the Ritual," I reply.

            "Go here.  It is your dad's favorite place," Root wrote down some coordinates on a piece of paper.

            "Thanks," I said and left.

*~*~*~*~*

            I flew over the trees on my brand new wings.  Amazing what the words of a Commander can get you.

            "Here we are," I said to myself.  I drop gently to a branch.  "Sure is pretty." I fall from the tree to the ground and look for an acorn.  "Ah, here we are." I pick it up and fly a few kilometers and plant the seed in the ground.  I then fly back to the tree.  Root is there waiting for me.

            "Hello, Holly," Root greets me.

            "Hey Root," I reply.

            "Holly, I know I am not supposed to tell you this, but, I know how your father died," Root said softly.

            "Go on, I won't tell anyone," I urge.

            "Well, he was assassinated," Root said.

            "By whom?" I asked.  Shock again.  Normally that information would have me off the wall.

            "We don't know.  We think he was assassinated because he is too good.  He could make it to the Council," Root said.

            "If he wants to," I said.

            "Yes, if he wants to.  I have to go," Root said, not bothering to make an excuse.  He didn't need one.  If he even tried to make him, I would have cut him off.  Root jumped from the tree and flew away.  I stare at the full moon, and, for the first time, I cry.