Case Study #65

Students of the newly developed Magic & Psychiatric department in St. Mungo’s sat in a small lecture theater. They were studying the techniques of dealing and treating mentally deranged patients through the collaboration of muggle science and magic. Today, they were shown a unique case; case study number 65.

Right in front of the class was a pensieve. It was no ordinary one as it had mirrors around the wide glass bowl. Smoke was also puffing excessively from the liquid within, and a thick cloud had gathered a feet above the bowl. In the cloud itself was a memory, playing out an interview.

“Does it make you feel good to watch people suffer?” The interviewer’s voice echoed throughout the small lecture theater.

“Great pleasure,” the subject replied.

“And do you think what you did was right?”

The subject merely laughed in reply.

“So, you think it was right?” the interviewer asked again.

“My right and wrong is defined by you isn’t it? You are here to call me crazy, to justify my actions, to… help me?”

“Yes, I want to help you.”

“I don’t need your help doctor. I’m not your patient, so you don’t have to test your patience on my sanity.”

Slowly, the dark room started to fade away within the cloud, and that was all with the short memory.

“At the age of six, the subject had already showed intense sadistic, brutal and violent tendencies. Subject was also highly intelligent and could learn quickly. Interestingly, subjects personality is claimed to be hereditary. Both aunt and cousin were also short tempered and easily distracted,” read Dr. Batred, the senior lecturer of the first badge of students.

“For today’s class, I would like you to go back and write a one thousand word discussion on whether you believe the subject had been born or nurtured with such traits. If you have no questions, class is dismissed.”

Once Dr. Batred had turned his back against his students, he expected to hear them leaving, but instead, one of the asked, ”Sir, I’m afraid you have not given us enough information to write on, if you do not mind showing us the other memory bottle you have with you?”

Dr. Batred took a quick glance at the two bottles of memory sitting on his desk. He had earlier planned on showing both of them, but thought of saving one for the next class.

“I was actually planning on showing this one in our next class,” Dr. Batred picked the bottle up as he spoke. A label pasted onto the bottle read, ’1st Interview’.

“Sir, as much as you would like to chase us off, we would like to know more,” another student added in.

Chuckling to himself, Dr. Batred felt rather happy at his students’ response. Such keenness should be credited.

“Very well. If you are all so very keen.” Dr. Batred headed to the pensieve and retrieved the earlier memory before pouring in the new.

As he did so, he briefly mentioned, “This was an interview conducted by a family friend of the subject. The subject’s parents were rather worried of their child’s state and decided to call for help. It wasn’t easy getting this memory, but thankfully for us, I knew the interviewer. He thought this memory would come in useful one day, so he decided to sent it to me with an invitation to his funeral.”

The class chuckled along with uncertainty of the premise of the statement. Thankfully, the awkwardness of the supposed joke dissolved when the memories in the bottle rose into the cloud above the pensieve.

“Hello,” the interviewer greeted the child.

They were seated in a cozy living room. The fireplace was burning brightly, casting flickers of light on their faces.

“Hello sir,” the child replied politely.

“How are you today?”

“Rather fine, thank you.”

“I would like to ask you a few questions. I hope that it is alright with you?”

“Does it have to do with me hurting my sister?”

“There is a question or two on that.”

“If you must know, I don’t like my sister. Father and mother pays too much attention to her, and she’s rather stupid if you ask me.”

“Is that why you have tried to suffocate her?”

“Yes,” the child answered expressionlessly.

“Why do you do that?”

“I want her to die.”

“Do you want your youngest sister to die too?”

“Cissy? No. I like Cissy.” An expression crossed the little girls face as though the interviewer was asking a ridiculous question.

There was a short pause as the interviewer tried to decipher her expression. But not being able to conclude anything, he continued.

“How old is Andromeda, Bella?”

“What a stupid name,” Bella replied as she stared right into the interviewers eyes.

“She’s four am I right?”

“She’s four. And Cissy is two.”

“Do you know why your mother locks your bedroom door at night?”

“Because she’s afraid I might kill Andromeda in her sleep.” Bella paused before she continued, “They think I might kill Cissy too, but I love Cissy.”

“I see. Is that why you left dead baby birds on Cissy’s crib?”

“They are presents. So Cissy know’s I love her.”

“And did you kill those baby birds?”

“Yes. I squeezed them with my hands,” Bella answered proudly.

“Why did-”

“Don’t you think it’s more meaningful when a gift takes effort, rather than just going to a store and buying one?” Bella interrupted immediately.

“Do you think Cissy would know the difference?”

Bellatrix shrugged in reply. As the interviewer looked to her parents the memory slowly disappeared in the cloud.

“Now, a one thousand word discussion wouldn’t be a problem, would it? Nature versus nurture; get on with it!” Dr. Batred ended that evening class, wondering to himself if he actually thought Bellatrix Lestrange was crazy or just a highly intelligent person with a lack of remorse.

 

Chapter 22:

“O.k,” Joanna replied, trying to hide her blush, and to her biggest surprise, Tom pulled her in for a hug.

It was a strange feeling, one Joanna had never felt before. She was never hugged by a man, not her father, not anyone. And this being the first time, Joanna didn’t want to let go, and Tom didn’t seem to want to either.

They stood, hugging, in their hideout spot in Hogwarts for a while before an owl came swooping in the balcony with a letter attached to its feet.

Unwillingly pulling away from Tom, Joanna headed to the owl and detached the letter.

“I wonder who this is for,” Joanna said, as the letter wasn’t addressed to neither of them.

“Definitely not for me,” Tom said with a shrug.

Without hesitation, Joanna pulled the letter open and saw three words scrawled on the parchment.

“Borgin and Burkes?” Joanna read, looking at Tom with her eyes narrowed.

Tom merely smiled and shrugged. “Probably a mistake.”

Somehow sensing Tom was hiding something, as the same false smile was plastered on his handsome face, Joanna had the urge to ask. But then she recalled not wanting any part of his plan and decided to pretend the letter didn’t matter.

Crumpling the letter up, Joanna said, “Oh well, I guess the owl was lost.”

Then heading to the door, Joanna added, “It’s getting late, I don’t wanna get caught and expelled NOW.”

“Why? You would miss me?” Tom replied as he raised his eyebrows.

And immediately Joanna felt her cheeks burn up. No wonder girls go crazy about him, he knew how to work his face! Joanna thought as she turned away.

“I think you would miss me more,” Joanna said and hurried out the door, not even bothering to look behind.

As Joanna walked silently to her common room, the empty hallways were slowly clearing up as students began disappearing in the direction of their common rooms. She was pretty sure she was alone until an owl came swooping from behind her, scaring the hell out of her as she screamed.

The owl landed by a wall niche and it began hooting periodically at her.

“You didn’t have to scare me!” Joanna yelled at the animal, as she stormed towards it and untied a small parchment from its feet.

The owl then gave her a hard peck on her hand in reply before it took off angrily.

“Stupid bird,” Joanna shouted, hoping the owl could actually understand English, as she rubbed her hand.

Finally turning her attention back to the parchment, Joanna flipped it open, hoping it was a sweet message from Tom, but was disappointed when she saw that it was from Professor Dumbledore, who had requested to see her the following day.

Somewhat knowing what Dumbledore might want, Joanna thought less on what to answer him as she made her way back to the common room that night. Joanna could officially say she knew nothing about Tom’s plans, well, sort of, and found it no longer difficult to tell half the truth.

When morning came, Joanna went to see Dumbledore after her second class. He was in his same old office, looking not too happy the moment she entered.

“You requested to see me, sir?” Joanna asked.

“Yes. I hope the owl didn’t wake you from your sleep?” Dumbledore replied, with a tone of friendly sarcasm in his voice.

“No, it didn’t,” Joanna replied with a smile, as she took a seat. She felt like she had been playing games with Dumbledore all year round and this was just another little game of his.

“Well, I have some rather grim news for you today,” Dumbledore said.

“What is it?”

“Your mother isn’t feeling so well. According to your father, she has fallen ill.”

“Can I go visit her then?” Joanna quickly asked.

“You can, of course. But your father has informed me that your mother needs more caring for this time.”

“She’s not going to die is she?!” Joanna asked, standing up from her seat.

“No, of course not. She’s just bedridden for now. Your father will tell you more. As of now, he wants you back home, to look after your mother for a while.”

“O.k. But what about school?” Joanna asked casually. She didn’t want to have to repeat the year, and she didn’t want to leave Hogwarts for long either. If she had to look after her mother, to buy time for her father to look for a caretaker, she didn’t want it to affect her studies.

“Well, I know a few colleagues, who would be more than happy to home school you,” Dumbledore replied.

“But, I won’t be gone long, I can self study. There is no hassle to do that Professor,” Joanna said.

“I’m afraid it is necessary. Your father has requested you to look after your mother until he gets back-”

“I don’t know when he’s coming back,” Joanna interrupted.

“Then I’m afraid you have to finish up your final year at home.”

Shock at the news, Joanna was unsure on how to react. This was not just a short visit back home, this was a one way ticket home with possibly no returns to Hogwarts. Joanna would not be able to graduate with her friends, nor would she see them for the remaining year.

Joanna wanted to find an excuse, she wanted to say ‘no’, but it was her family. How could she say no to her family? But how could she say no to Tom after saying yes to him? She didn’t know what to do, or who she should pick.

To Be Continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on who Joanna should pick!)

 

Adopted

Some said she was a weird child, others said she was disturbed. To be frankly honest, she was both. Often times, you would see her sitting by the pond, throwing knives at the frogs. And every time she hits one, she would smile. She was already like that even before she started her training, and the family that adopted her when she was 8, accepted her the way she was.

You see, she was born in a poor family, with a mother who would take beatings from her father. Sometimes, her father would even take it out on her.

He would take scorching hot rods and jab them at the young innocent girl. But even with that little mind of hers, she realized that if she stopped crying, and pretended that it didn’t hurt, her father would start wearing an expression of utmost confusion, one of which she enjoyed watching.

But the more she became expressionless, the more pain her father would inflict on her. Even her mother dared not stop him when he started hammering nails into her thighs. It would have been a very disturbing experience for most children, but oddly enough, she didn’t feel a thing, and the blood that came oozing out from her wounds felt good.

Finally, when the neighbors saw the burnt marks, the bruises and scars on her little body, they reported her father to the peacekeepers and he was sent away. Her mother, who was not in a proper state to look after her, was forced to watch as the peacekeepers took the little girl of the age of 7 to an orphanage.

There, she spent a year playing by herself, collecting sharp objects and staring at the other children till they were all so scared of her. Every family that came to see the children always asked about that little girl, who sat by the corner by herself. But every time they asked, they leave with no intentions of adopting her. It was at the mention of her horrific background that people were turned off.

One year later, a rich family, with no children of their own, decided to adopt a child. Their intentions were clear as they told the people who worked in the orphanage.

“We don’t want an ordinary kid. We want to raise a career tribute kid.”

And it was then that they were directed straight to the weird little girl, who did not stir any problems when she was told to follow the elderly man and woman.

When she was brought to her new home, she was lavished with new clothes, new toys and a huge bedroom. The elderly couple gave her everything, even though she he did not ask for anything. And when they saw that she was finally ready, they sent her to a special school to be trained.

One evening, on her 12th birthday, she asked her adopted parents one question, ”Why did you adopt me?”

“Well, because we need someone to accompany us, and to make us proud,” her foster mother replied.

“O.K. Can I have a new set of knives for my birthday?” she replied.

“I’ll bring you to town tomorrow, you can pick them out,” her foster father replied from behind the daily newspaper.

And that was how she spent all her birthdays. She would ask the same question, followed by something she wanted, and her requests would be met.

But on her 15th birthday, she made a different request.

“Why did you adopt me?” she asked as usual.

“You know why my dear, to make us proud,” her foster mother replied pleasantly, not at all annoyed at the same question she was asked every year.

“Then, can I join this year’s hunger games?”

“You can volunteer if you like?” her foster father suggested, smiling broadly.

“No. I don’t want to volunteer. I don’t want people to think I’m ready,” she replied quickly.

“Then what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to pay them money to lie during the reaping,” she ordered.

“I don’t know about that my child, it’s a tricky thing to mess with the reaping process,” her foster father said.

“Maybe you can wait till you are eighteen, and then you can volunteer. It would make us both very proud of you?” her foster mother quickly added.

“I’m ready now. And you two are getting older, you might die before I turn eighteen,” she answered coldly.

It was no surprise to her foster parents that she spoke to them in such a way. As she grew older, she felt as though she was entitled to everything, and when she was given what she asked for, she became the spoiled, and rather sadistic brat.

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do,” her foster father finally gave in.

“Good. I would also need a dress for the reaping,” she added.

“We will go look for one tomorrow. Is there anything else you need Clove?” her mother asked.

“No. That’s all for now,” Clove said, as she gathered the knives she was polishing on the table and headed to the garden to throw them at more frogs.

 

Chapter 21:

Joanna crept down the stairs slowly with renewed energy she had just obtained through her curiosity.

When she heard the front door shut softly, she hurried down the steps, made a grab for her cloak, scrambled into her boots and peek through the main door’s keyhole.

Joanna watched as Tom hurried out of the front gate and into the cold and deserted town. Without hesitation, Joanna went after him. As she tailed him not too far behind, she forced herself to take bigger strides and draw deeper breaths, hoping not to lose sight of him.

When she saw Tom enter a tavern, Joanna slowed down, and eyed him through the old glass window panels. Tom took a seat at the far end of the tavern, where a hooded figure joined him shortly after.

Making sure not to be spotted, Joanna sneaked into the tavern and sat at a table behind a half-giant. She was close enough to spy on Tom, but not close enough to eavesdrop.

As she peeked over the old, dog-eared, menu, she watched Tom get into a private conversation with the hooded figure, as they bowed their heads low, over what looked like a list of something. Finally, after watching them converse for nearly an hour, Tom stood up, shook the figure’s hand and watched as the figure left.

Just as Tom was to leave as well, Joanna sunk deeper into her chair, burying her head behind the menu. But when she heard someone clearing their voice, she was pretty sure it wasn’t a waitress.

“Pleasure meeting you here,” Tom said.

“I needed a drink,” Joanna lied unconvincingly.

“Oh? It must be silly of me to think you were spying on me then.”

“It is,” Joanna quickly said as she looked away.

“I don’t understand you. Why don’t you just ask me, instead of spying on me?” Tom asked as he sat down across from her.

“Fine. What were you doing talking to that person?”

“That wasn’t a person. And I was asking on where to obtain certain items.”

“What items?”

“Rowena Ravenclaws diadem. And other special items for my horcruxes.” Tom said it so blatantly as though he didn’t care if anyone overheard him.

“I see. Was he the one who saved me from Rose?”

“No.” Tom chuckled. “He’s incapable of duels. I saved you.”

“Oh. Thank you.” Joanna almost whispered her gratitude.

“Don’t worry about it. She won’t be bothering you anymore.”

“Why? What did you do to her?” Joanna asked, but immediately added, “Wait, I don’t wanna know.”

“I didn’t kill her if that is what you’re worried about.”

“Right, well, good. Let’s go back now, shall we?” Joanna asked as she stood up and waited for him to follow. There were old rugged men staring in their direction and Joanna did not want to stay any longer.

After the short silent walk in the cold, they finally reached home, and Tom did the same thing he did before. He made sure Joanna was in bed before he went to his room. And this time, he shut his door loud enough for her to hear it.

When morning came, Joanna quickly forgot about the night before because Rose had a miraculous turn around. She gave Joanna her room back, and became the goody two shoes no one would have expected her to be in her lifetime. It was all thanks to Tom. He mentioned about speaking to Rose, but Joanna knew he was lying. Joanna was certain he did something to her, but she couldn’t be bothered in finding out what.

When the holiday finally ended and school was back in session, everything took on a different turn. Joanna realized that she did no good to Tom, but rather, he did good to her. And the moment she settled down in her dormitory she had a feeling the year was going to go by very quickly.

And though she was happy to be able to finish her studies, without being expelled again, Joanna knew that when it came to Tom, she was running out of options, and she couldn’t think of graduating when she knew her friend was going to commit such a hideous act.

Joanna was at the end of the road as she could not convince Tom to stop what he was doing, and she failed miserably at proving that being good paid off. So what was she going to do next?

After a week into classes, Joanna found herself bombarded with homework and she didn’t even have time to think about Tom. Their final exam was happening earlier this year as the ministry of education made a mistake with their scheduling, and this was such a horror to most students.

Tom, however, was rather relaxed. Apparently, he had already prepared the year before and he just couldn’t wait for it to be over. It was in that very same conversation that they were having, at their secret tower hideout, that Tom asked about her future.

“Where do you see yourself after you graduate?”

“I don’t know. You?”

“I’m still planning,” Tom answered.

“World domination and the disposal of muggles?” Joanna asked jokingly.

“That’s part of it,” Tom replied without addressing the question as a joke.

“I see.” Joanna immediately regretted her question.

“Part of my plan is to have you with me.” Tom caught Joanna off guard, and continued, “What are plans if you don’t have anyone to share it with?”

“But, I’m not really excited about you splitting your soul,” Joanna replied quickly.

“Then you have to make a decision now,” Tom said as he turned to look her in the eye.

“What decision?”

“Are you with me, or are you not?”

Joanna didn’t know how to answer Tom. It was a tough question, but deep down, she wanted to be with him.

“I can’t contradict my beliefs,” Joanna said softly and Tom heard her.

“Then I’ll make you the exception. You don’t have to help me with my plans, you just have to be in it.”

“How does that work? Are you asking me to be… your girlfriend?” Joanna asked, extremely confused at his statement, yet secretly hoping that that was what he meant.

“Just say yes,” Tom replied.

To Be Continued…

(Leave a comment below or vote on how Joanna should respond!)

 

The Golden Ticket

Congratulations! These are the lucky 6 who will be given the Golden Ticket into Dream World!

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2) Ariadna

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4) Caroline Guisson

5) Tomte

6) Amira

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Home Schooled

As he sat staring out of his room window, he wondered what life would have been like, if he was accepted to a magical school. But the more he thought about it, the more he hated his life. He couldn’t understand why nobody wanted him, why nobody would accept him for who he was, and deep within him, sparks of anger was growing.

But as of now, he had to push away that thought, because in a few minutes, he would have to sit with his relatives who would ask about him, and why he wasn’t in school. He would have to pretend he didn’t like public school, and that he preferred to be home schooled, to save his parents the embarrassment. And though he thought his parents were being selfish, he knew that that excuse would save him the embarrassment as well.

Finally, the knock came from the door, and he knew it was time. The moment his aunts, uncles and cousins were all settled down in their cosy living room, with the fireplace mildly burning with scented wood, he knew that  though the environment was perfect for good stories and laughs, it will soon turn to him.

“So, still being home schooled I assume?” his eldest aunt asked.

“Yes,” he replied, forcing a smile as he nodded

“Oh, it’s better for him. He can focus more,” his mother quickly added.

“Ah, yes, boys at his age are easily influenced. You’re fifteen now aren’t you?” His eldest aunt turned to him.

“Yes,” he replied, with the same plastic smile.

“Well then, you should show us what you could do,” one of his cousin suggested.

“Oh, we know what he can do, there’s no need to show,” his father answered before he could.

“No, he must show. A boy like you, with such talented parents, would definitely have great talent hidden under your sleeves. And since you’re home schooled, we expect greater things from you!” his eldest aunt said.

“I… I’m not sure,” he said, as he watched his parents exchange quick glances.

“Oh, look at the time, it’s late!” his mother quickly said, as his father waved his wand from his back at the nearby clock.

“Yes, you must get going,” his father added, standing up ready to usher them to the door.

“Oh? I think your clock is off uncle, we just got here,” his cousin said with a laugh.

“Oh, stop trying to be funny Artie,” his eldest aunt said to his father, and waved for him to sit back down.

Immediately, his mother gave him a nudge, and acting upon her actions he got up, ready to excuse himself, with a reason that he needed to get some homework done.

“Where are you going?” his cousin immediately asked.

“I have some homework to do,” he replied, trying to make himself believable.

“Oh, you’re home schooled boy, you can do it anytime,” his eldest aunt said.

And when his mother tugged at his sleeve, he sat back down. Confused at what his parents actually wanted, he sat through the excuses they came up with to put him in the clear and when they finally succeeded, they went on to talking about the ministry, quidditch, and everything magic related.

Through 2 hours of rambling, laughing and complaining, he somehow felt out of place. They seemed so happy, and in him, more seeds of anger began to plant itself. He didn’t know why, but he hated them for being so happy, their laughs became too loud to bear, and they complaints felt so petty that he felt as though they were being so ungrateful with the life they had.

Then, when they started talking about how they wished they could actually live a muggle life for one day, he could not believe what he was hearing. Were they kidding? Do they know what they would be missing out if they were muggles?

“Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to drive a muggle car, ON the road? And those special things they call telephone, it looks so fun to use!” his cousin said excitedly.

“It would be nice to experience it. No ministry talk, just tea with a game of tennis,” his eldest aunt added.

“What’s tennis? It sure does sound interesting” his mother asked.

At that very moment, he just couldn’t take it anymore. He knew what tennis was, because he learnt about it in school, muggle school. And when he told his parents about it, they couldn’t care less. Now, they were on the bandwagon about living a muggle life?

“Oh, it’s a game-”

“It’s a muggle game. A muggle game you probably would not play, mother,” he interrupted his eldest aunt, and sent the room quiet.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account. You all seem to want to live the muggle life, so go ahead! Go to muggle schools, learn about muggle art, and BE A MUGGLE! Then when you’re bored, you can go back to being magical, cause you can!” he continued, and everyone in the room merely stared at him, speechless.

“Argus, please,” his mother whispered.

“Don’t PLEASE me mother, you want to live a lie, go ahead, but I’m done living a lie.” Argus paused and turned to his eldest aunt. “Do you know why I don’t perform magic? It’s because I’m a squib! I CAN’T do magic. I DON’T have it! I’m a muggle, living in a magical world, and it is horrible. So stop being so ungrateful with what you have!’

Immediately after his outburst, Argus ran to his room, slammed his door as loud as he could and buried his face in his pillow, muffling his shouts of anger. But even when he was done, his anger never left, because he just couldn’t understand why those who were given special giftings would take it for-granted.

If only they knew how it was like being the only one not special. If only they could stand where he stood. If only they could see the difference, then he wouldn’t be so angry at all of them.

 

Seven 4 Heaven

Another milestone: 700 subs! You guys are awesome! I would high five all of you if I ever get the chance.

I’m not sure how many of you frequently visits my blog, but I’m pretty sure some of you do visit it occasionally, which is a good thing Thank you for doing so!

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I’m really looking forward to be an owner of a website, so your support is would go a long way!

Anyways, as I have announced in the 3rd chapter of dream world, I’m giving free dream world access to 10 subscribers. So be sure to check it out and participate, you have until the 3rd of May to do so!

Well, I have said what I needed to say. May dream world be ever in my favor!

(Here are the links to dream world Chapter 1 and Chapter 2, do check them out!)

 

Chapter 20:

“Fine,” Joanna said as she hurried down the stairs to the kitchen.

Once she took her mother’s misplaced wand, she turned to Rose, who was merely smiling at the kitchen doorway.

“So where shall we do it?”

“Hang on, whose wand are you using?” Joanna quickly asked.

“My mother’s spare. You see, we have-”

“Whatever, lets go,” Joanna interrupted as she headed out through the kitchen exit.

She didn’t know why she had agreed to do it, but she felt a surge of adrenaline, rushing through her veins, and she knew she could beat her cousin anytime.

Out in the freshly mowed lawn, Joanna took ten paces away from her cousin. It was a good day for a swim in the nearby pool, but all Joanna could think about was making her cousin suffer when she loses her pride.

“Are you sure about this Joanna?” Rose asked without a hint of sincerity.

Joanna smiled in return and bowed in response. Seeing her reaction, Rose did the same and immediately went into her dueling stance, with her wand overhead, ready to cast the first spell.

And though Joanna knew her cousin would never play fair, she failed to see it coming when sparks flew and she was disarmed.

“Hey! I wasn’t ready!” Joanna shouted as she stared from her cousin to her mother’s wand, lying twenty feet away.

“Go get it,” Rose said as she raised her eyebrows.

“Don’t you dare make another move,” Joanna said, as she hesitated to go for her wand.

“I won’t,” Rose replied with a smile.

Joanna knew she couldn’t trust her cousin, so she made a dash for her wand, but before she could reach it, a spell hit her so hard, that it sent her flying further from the wand, and into a Rose bush.

“Oh look, you landed on my turf.” Rose laughed as she hurried over.

“Let me help you,” Rose added as she offered her hand, but Joanna pushed her out of the way as she stumbled out.

Her skin started to sting as the thorns in the bush pricked her more than once.

“I’m not dueling anymore. You don’t play by the rules,” Joanna said, trying to get up.

“No, you don’t get to choose. A duel ends when someone doesn’t get up anymore.” Rose shoved Joanna on her back and pointed her wand right at her face.

“What are you doing?” Joanna quickly asked.

“I learnt a spell in school. It’s famous in duels but I haven’t gotten a chance to use it yet. Oh, don’t worry, I know how it works, so I won’t mess it up. And since we ARE in a duel, I am just dying to try it out.”

“What? Don’t do anything you would regret,” Joanna said as she moved backwards, away from Rose.

“Crucio!’ Rose shouted, and before Joanna could even blink, a pain unlike any other rose from her spine and into every vein in her body.

The pressure in her veins felt as though it was about to burst and the stinging feeling on her skin became far more excruciating, as though the little pricks were tearing itself wider.

Joanna could not even say a word as hot tears flowed from her eyes, and her screams muffled in the grass as she rolled around, trying to make the pain stop.

But just went she thought she was going to die, she faintly heard someone else joining them, and a second later, the pain stopped and everything faded to black.

When Joanna finally gained consciousness, she was in her room, and the sky was already dark. Joanna wondered if the experience was just a nightmare, but when she saw the pricks on her hands and arms, she knew it wasn’t. Trying to sit up, she sent herself right back to sleep as she blacked out again.

Joanna woke up in intervals. One moment it was day, the next it was night. When she finally found enough strength to pull herself up, the clock by her bedside ticked 3a.m.

Thirsty and hungry, Joanna slowly got out of her bed and headed down to the kitchen. It took her so long to reach the kitchen as she had to focus on pulling her legs forward to walk. When she finally sat down by the kitchen table, she drank a whole jug of water and swallowed half a loaf of bread without even chewing.

She felt very much alive and her mind started racing with questions. Who was it that saved her? And what happened to Rose?

Just then, she heard someone walk into the kitchen from behind her.

“Looks like you’re finally up.” The familiarity of the voice calmed her wildly beating heart immediately.

Tom took a seat next to her as he continued, “Feeling better?”

“I think so. What happened Tom?” Joanna quickly asked.

“I’ll tell you in the morning, right now, you should get back to bed.” Tom said as he offered his hand.

“But, I’m not tired,” Joanna said.

“It’s three in the morning. You should go back to bed. Let me take you.” Tom didn’t wait for her reply as he took her hand and led her back to her room. Once she was in bed, Tom wished her goodnight and left.

Joanna silently waited to hear Tom’s bedroom door close, but oddly she didn’t. Immediately, she got up and quietly hurried down the hallway to peek down the stairs.

In the dimly lit hall, Joanna saw Tom pulling a cloak over his shoulders as he headed towards the door.

Where was he going? Joanna silently asked herself. And then curiosity set it, should she follow him or go back to bed?

To Be Continued…

(Vote or leave a comment below on whether Joanna should stalk or go back to bed!)

 

Chapter 3:

That night, Bryan was sent to bed with only one solid information in his head; he was going to be sent to the factories when morning came. But the horrible thought did spare him some sleep, even though his dreams started off with him being whipped by a huge ugly man who kept ordering him to move faster.

When Bryan finally managed to escape that wretched dream into a small quiet town, all he wanted was to find a place to rest, and what better place than by a fountain with angelic figures, pouring out sparkling water into a small pond.

Bryan sat on the green grass and watched as the angelic figures came to life and danced to the rustling leaves and the chirping birds. He was pretty sure it was all a dream, until he saw a man in a yellow raincoat hurrying pass him, and what fell out of his pocket was a peculiar pocket watch.

As Bryan picked it up, ready to return it to its owner, the man in the yellow raincoat had already disappeared. Shrugging at the inability to do a good deed, Bryan returned to his spot and examined the odd symbols on the gold surfaces of the watch.

There were three knobs by the side and an extra hand on the face of the watch. Bryan could also see the watch’s mechanism, with gears rotating at twice the speed, in the midst of what looked like silver liquid. Shaking the watch just to hear a slush, the absence of it did not surprise Bryan more than when he had turned a knob, and the watch stopped working, along with the clock tower far in sight.

As the two hands on the face of the clock on the tower read five twenty seven, everything stopped moving for a brief second. The still silence that only lasted for a while gave Bryan a sinking feeling that he had just messed with something he wasn’t supposed to. But before he could undo it, someone called his name, and as he shoved the watch into the pocket of his pants, he felt himself being yanked into the real world once again, where James was shouting at him to get ready.

…

 Anna was sitting just outside a small café, by the pebbled walkway. She wasn’t sure what she was doing there, but it felt like the right place to be at the moment.

And then a stranger walked up to her, in a black suit and a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Can I join you?” he asked.

“Sure, I’m Anna,” Anna introduced herself.

“I’m Matthew,” he said as he sat right opposite her.

“What are you doing here?” Anna asked curiously.

“I’m meeting someone, I think. She said she would be here at five thirty,” Matthew said as he turned to look at the clock tower, whose hands had stopped moving.

“The clock stopped working a few minutes ago. I guess that’s why she isn’t showing up?” Anna said.

“Ah, well, I guess so. For you then,” Matthew said, as he casually handed the flowers to Anna.

“Why, thank you.” Anna closed her eyes as she smelled the flowers. It was such a beautiful scent that the moment she opened her eyes, morning had already came.

Smiling to herself, she secretly wished Matthew was real, because he was surely a keeper. But the day had to go on, and Anna made haste as she left for work an hour later.

Anna worked as a secretary to the mayor’s office in her small town. And on that very day, while she was walking on her way to work, she spotted a man, who was rather familiar.

“Matthew?” Anna called out uncertainly.

The man turned and smiled at her as he asked, “Anna?”

The moment thereafter became rather awkward as neither of them were really sure on how they knew each other.

“Do I know you? It feels like I do.” Matthew chuckled as he walked up to her.

“I don’t know. In a dream maybe,” Anna said, being immediately reminded of the café and the flowers he had given her.

“At the café?” Matthew asked skeptically.

“Did we have the same dream?” the two of them asked at the same time.

“Must be fate then,” Matthew quickly continued.

And though it was strange to them that they met in a dream, but at that moment, they were more preoccupied at staring at each other.

…

 “The boy has the watch,” Aaron said, as he caught up with his leader, who was walking around the angelic fountain.

“He woke up by himself,” Aaron continued, as though the more information he had, the less trouble he would be in for dropping his pocket watch.

Finally, his leader, who was a man in his 50’s, stopped and turned to look at him, expressionlessly.

“Do you know what happens when the clock stops moving Aaron?”

“Yes sir, people will remember,” Aaron quickly answered.

“People will remember what happens after five twenty seven, and if ever these lives cross paths in the real world, our world would be in jeopardy. IF that ever happens, Aaron, I will personally hold YOU responsible.”

To be continued…

(Leave comments below on what you think about the series so far. I would to hear what you have to say! And if you are interested in journeying on, visit here to learn how you can subscribe to the rest of the series!

Also, I am giving free access to Dream World to 10 subscribers! All you have to do is visit my fan page and write on my wall the weirdest dream you have ever had! I would only accept stories of your weirdest dreams until the 3rd of May, 2012. So what are you waiting for?!)

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Dream World © 2012 by Jeyna Grace.

All rights reserved. No part of the mini series’ may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Jeyna Grace.

 

Chapter 2:

As he stared into his own eyes the next morning, he found the resemblance scary. He did have her eyes, her nose, and her ears; unknowingly, he was touching his face as he examined himself.

“Happy birthday Bryan,” James wished as he walked pass him in the wash room.

“Thanks,” Bryan replied, as he pulled on the navy green, sleeveless sweater, he was forced to wear ever since he was born.

“To think they would at least give us a new sweater on our birthdays,” James said as he pulled his sweater on. “I hate this color,” James added as he re-tied his shoe laces.

Bryan shrugged as he combed his hair and walked back into the dormitory. Passing by the long rows of beds, some of his dorm-mates gave him birthday wishes while others merely patted him on the shoulder.

At the strike of 7, each of them stood in front of their neatly made bed, in their navy green sweaters, over a white plain shirt, with ironed slacks that would reach their perfectly tied shoelaces of their black shoes.

The dormitory door would then burst open as a tall, thin man, walked down the room, inspecting each orphan along the way.

“Very good. Now off to breakfast!” the man shouted. And the boys formed two lines as they marched down to the dining hall to join the rest of the orphans, older and younger, for their tasteless meal.

The orphanage acted more like a military school, with rules and regulations not to be broken. If one ever breaks a rule, one would be sent off to work in a factory, with no pay, till one turns 18 and is legally on one’s own.

“I hate this place,” James muttered as he chomped down the oat-ty meal. And though Bryan agreed, he did not say anything in response as he was more occupied at finding out if his dream was true.

All he could remember were her blue eyes. He could not remember her name, even though he could have sworn he remembers it in his dreams. But his determination led him to walking into Mrs. Wellton’s office after breakfast.

“What is it that you wanted to see me for, boy?” Mrs. Wellton asked as she stared at him from across her desk.

“I was wondering, if I could…” Bryan paused, contemplating on his request.

“If you could what? Speak up boy! Nobody would want a child who cannot speak!”

Bryan gulped as he continued, “I was wondering if I could see my records. I want to know who my mother is.”

Instead of responding with a ‘no’, Mrs. Wellton burst into false laughter.

“Could I then?” Bryan boldly asked again.

“Why would you want to see your records?” Mrs. Wellton snorted through her question, as though she found what he said extremely amusing.

“I want to find my mother,” Bryan answered.

“You want to find your mother? I don’t think you would want to do that boy, she gave you away remember?” Mrs. Wellton’s question sounded more taunting this time.

“I think she told me she wanted to find me,” Bryan quickly replied.

“Oh, she told you did she? Where? In your dreams?”

“Yes ma’am,” Bryan answered honestly.

“Are you fooling around with me now?” Mrs. Wellton’s change in tone told Bryan he had just stepped out of line.

“No ma’am. If I could just know her name-“

“There is no need for you to know her name, now run along before I send you to the factories! They need new boys and I don’t mind sparing them some,” Mrs. Wellton threatened, and Bryan did not stay any longer to see if she meant it.

But he did not want to give up, he needed to find his mother, and she said she wanted to find him too. So he plotted a possibly disastrous plan in which he executed the same night.

When all the lights were out, Bryan sneaked out of his dormitory, and crept down the wooden hallways. Thankfully, they were made to replace the old floorboards every now and then, and it didn’t creaked as he hurried down a flight of stairs and into the unlocked office of Mrs. Wellton, the owner and matron of Wellton’s Home for Boys.

Carefully pulling open the wooden drawers of a cabinet, Bryan searched for his file, and when he found it, he quickly flipped it open, and squinted at its information under the pale moonlight by the office window.

Under the parent’s information, no father’s name was given, but written in black ink was his mother’s name, Anna Wakefield.

“Anna, isn’t that her name?” Bryan asked himself, but no memories would return to him right then.

And just when he thought a light bulb had been flicked above his head, the lights of the office flicked on instead. And there by the doorway was Mrs. Wellton, not looking a ton too well as she glared at him angrily.

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Dream World © 2012 by Jeyna Grace.

All rights reserved. No part of the mini series’ may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission from Jeyna Grace.