|
|
Post by aceofspades on Apr 11, 2010 9:19:14 GMT 1
((Open btw))
The day was dark. The November sky hung over the grounds ominously as if it put a little misery into every snow flake. Nothing seemed happy anymore. And yet, something in Ryan begged to be allowed to smile. How could she though. It was too soon to her. Only months ago she was left alone with no one else in the world. She'd still not said anything to the headmaster. What harm could come? Surely someone had already sent word of the incident. Perhaps the headmaster was just giving Ryan space and time to mourn. Yes, that must have been it.
With the day as dreary as it was, one thing Ryan was definitely sure about; if one lays in bed for too long they get bed sores. She wasn't sure if it was anything like boils, or if it was just a muscle pain, but she was certain she wanted nothing to do with them. So she'd heaved herself out of bed exactly on time that morning, suffered through class without a peep as usual, and spent the rest of the afternoon avoiding cold drafts from the doors and windows. Weeks ago she had found that there was a corridor that looked out at the lake and if you were there before supper, you could get lucky enough to smell the food from the kitchens rising up through the ventilation pipes. It was a comforting smell and always made Ryan a little more at ease.
Lucky enough for her it was usually a quiet corridor too. She'd desperately tried to convince herself that she was perfectly happy being alone for the rest of her life. To be perfectly honest, she'd attempted this conviction all her life. None to her amazement, it never worked. She always knew that no one could be perfectly happy not knowing anyone in the world. But she'd grown accustomed to it when her mother kept her indoors all the time, so it never became a pressing matter until recently. She was always so restricted by her parents. Ryan suddenly relished the thought. They weren't there anymore to hold her back! And as quickly as it came Ryan nearly beat the thought right out of her head. I must be mad. They're dead not on holiday!
Even without restrictions, Ryan could not see it in herself to do anything else. So she quietly took to sitting on a bench near the window. Through the chilled glass pane she could see other students outside, using their afternoon hours for a snow ball fight. Laughter. It's was such a simple thing, but Ryan didn't understand why being hit in the face with a blisteringly cold ball of ice and powder could be anything close to funny. And even so, she desperately wished she'd had the courage to join them. A quick glance around the hall and she knew it was safe. Her knees came slowly to her chest as she sank her head into them. Quiet tears came to her eyes and fell. Not that she was crying, no... just tearing. Loosing her parents to a battle she could not fight, wasn't easy for her to handle. Only in the still silence of her loneliness could Ryan ever seem to make sense of her desperation for a friend. |
|
|
|
Post by redeemedone on May 29, 2010 6:56:37 GMT 1
Pete rushed down the corridor, pulling out his watch he glanced down at the time, he was late. Just bloody brilliant, Girl Nott would never let him hear the end of it, especially after the way he teased her about her inability to be on time for their first meeting. As he rounded the corner he paused, frowning. Standing still for a long moment he listened closely, hearing the distant sounds of muffled sobs. Great, just great -just what he needed. Shaking his head he took another step then paused, 'What the hell was he doing? He wasn't some bloody fucking Gryffindor!' He thought as his feet took him in the direction of the sound.
His expensive shoes made no sound on the stone as he moved silently. His grandfather had often complained about Pete's cat-like quietness when it came to how he moved. It didn't take him long to happen upon a girl sitting on the ground by a window. Walking over he leaned smoothly against the wall, looking out at the students outside having a snowball fight. He didn't really understand the use of that -getting hit in the face with a ball of crushed ice never seemed like an appealing prospect to him, but to each his or her own.
Personally he enjoyed more fun things like flying, the wind in your face was better than frozen water. Then there was Quidditch, though he would admit that a quaffel to the face was worse than a snow ball, still it was a hell of a lot more worth the rush. Either way the point remained that throwing snow at one another seemed stupid and pointless to him.
As he once again reached this conclusion Pete glanced at the girl once more, unwilling to interrupt her. After all, it was her moment, he wasn't going to bust in on it, just see that she was fine, well, besides the obvious crying that is, and move on. He glanced at his pocket watch once more, over fifteen minutes late, brilliant, so that meant that when he finally did make it to their study session, either Veronica Nott would be breathing fire, or gloating because he was finally the one late.
Pete turned his head once more and breathed softly on the glass, once his breath appeared he lifted his right hand and used his index finger to draw a small winged demon that breathed fire before erasing it and peering more closely at the group outside playing in the snow. He smirked when a fight broke out between the once jolly students and shook his head. Snow hitting face, equaled face meeting wand -just the way it should be.
Word Count: 458
|
|
