the last straw open to 1-2

𝕭rookline awoke on the morning of September first with a wolfish, perturbed scowl. Her life was not sunshine and rainbows. Her life is wretched. I feel wretched, she thought as the girl stuck in depression rolled over on her own bed. I wonder how many times Marie will get homesick.

Of course, the little Ravenclaw had gotten too excited for her own good at her second camp and the three Quinns had to leave summer camp early again. It was rather dreadful returning too to the house of shadows. God, it was harsh. Amy didn’t even know they were home until Marie invaded her office. The newly-single mother wasn’t coping quite well. As Brookline leaned against the door frame, her gaze followed her mum’s pale eyes, and that smile that Amy gave Marie never reached the bleached green-blue orbs. The gleeful dimples that used to be in her fair skin had disappeared. Brookline felt a flame rise within her. She never wanted in her whole life, wanted to “bite her thumb” at someone so hard before. It pained her. She knew that it wasn’t her mother’s fault.

Someone had taken Amy’s beautiful smile away, just like Brookline’s happiness was snatched in the dead of night.

The girl cursed herself as she tried to make herself sick. Perhaps Lizy might take her out of school. That would make everything worse though, wouldn’t it? Brookline clutched her stomach and willed her meager supper from last night to come up.

She could be sad. Disappointed, even. There was another D-word that Brookline tried to keep out of her vocabulary. Because no way she was. She was just stressed. That’s what Lizy had told her when the new fourth year was in Wales. Was Brookline just like her mother, though?

“God-damn it!” Tears sprung from dead eyes and Brookline strikes her duvet as she pounces out of bed. “Can we shut the he — hell up?” Her voice cracks, and pure, humane liquid spills down her white cheeks. She glanced at her packed trunk, and she picks up a soiled jumper from the carpet. Her fists turned the cotton into a ball. The Ravenclaw flings it across the room with anger, as she hears excited, pattering feet down the stairs.

Oh Merlin, whoever shall that be? Cold sarcasm leaked into her dark heart as her vexation quickly drained, melting into a thin yet firm veil of ice. No wonder, the twins were excited for their second year. Brookline didn’t understand it. Minnie and Marie went through the very same thing and it didn’t affect them as much as it slapped Brookline and Amy in the face.

The Quinn dressed rather quickly, not at all caring what she looked or seemed like. She wasn’t there to impress. Brookline would be at Hogwarts because she felt like she had to be there. Her fingers did not come across a simple brush. It sat forsaken inside the trunk—she always knew it would—left behind by a soul who had abandoned all will to tend and care.

As the girl hoped she could wither to rags, Brookline pulled her trunk down the stairs. Heavy as it was, she was quite certain she could drag it down. Lizy offered to aid her, but Brookline dismissed her with a wave. One step down, pull. Another step and pull once again. She definitely has it. And she did. Brookline dusted her palms off and sighed. She knew she could do it. God forbid if her older sister still saw her as the tiny little lass Lizy knew her as a decade ago.

Skipping breakfast, Brookline gave her brothers one last hug before sticking her head in her mum’s office. A quiet goodbye pasted on her lips. The room literally reeked of morosity and she watched as little twin girls squeezed their absent mother. Having cried so many times in the past year or two, she could not produce tears at this moment. Not that she wanted to, anyway.

Amy was good as dead to her.

She wasn’t sure if they’d exchanged words since the start of third year. Brookline did miss her real mum. Not this bitch-ass doppelgänger. Rolling her eyes, she gave Minnie the look, telling her sisters to wrap it up. It was time for them to go back. Merlin, how hard will it be this time?

Soot entered their noses as the train rumbled into the station. “Ah! There it is—goodbye, you lot!” Lizy waved, then wrapped her skinny arms around Brookline. She whispered into the younger Ravenclaw’s dull hair, “Don’t you dare forget to write this year.” Even though Brookline disliked the word ‘lot’, she still buried her face into her sister. Inhaling the scent of spices and sweet flowers, she tightened her fingers around Lizy’s clothing. Was she still considered a child for this? For being so emotionally attached? For once in her life, the young Quinn did not wish to leave her sister.

The train’s whistle gave a doleful shriek, cutting through the thick air. The sudden noise forced the two girls apart, their firm eye contact saying everything their words couldn’t. Sighing, Brookline scratched her nose. She left Lizy, grabbing her trunk and crate to follow her younger sisters. God! she thought. He must be trying me. As they boarded the Hogwarts Express (Brookline having to help the twins with their trunks), the fourth-year noticed the twins glancing back in remorse. Lizy looked so lonely. Brookline wished her sister had a genuine friend in the world.

She shook herself, warning herself to knock it off. Brookline was not going to allow tears to fall here. Turning to the twins, she handed Tigeress’s crate to Marie. “I’m going to grab my robes and change. You and Minnie, go on and search for a compartment. Take Tigeress, too. Please.” The Welsh girl didn’t care to listen for a response, she just carried her baggage to the lavatory. She has to rummage insidet the trunk to find her clothes. Once she finds her garments, Brookline rushes inside the restroom.

When she finishes, Brookline was clad in black and blue. She shoves her Muggle-styled clothing in her trunk, and places a mask of coolness over her. She itches her ear before moving on. Dragging her heavy trunk, she hears the wooden box catch on carpet. She lifts it up and decides to hold it. The Ravenclaw has always despised this one thing about her trunk. After a while, though, Brookline can’t physically carry the heavier item around. It slips from her grasp and almost lands on her boots.

“Ohhh, so that’s how you wanna play, you damn piece of shit.” She growled. “F—frick you.” Brookline is running on empty, her strength dwindling. She knew her exhaustion was not the only factoring to that.

The brunette gave it one more yank and the metal handle flew off.

ZING!

It went this way.

And that way.

Before sliding to a halt by her heel, slowed down by the carpet.

God-damn it!” Brookline stamped her foot, akin to a crimson-faced toddler. Her last straw. Life has plucked and pulled at her way too many times. She couldn’t a second longer without exploding. Or hexing someone. But that wouldn’t be nice. Ragged, defeated breaths in and out showed that she was ready to try and calm down. Brookline picked up the handle before snapping out her wand. Hopefully she was allowed to use magic on the train, she glanced at the trunk as she cast Reparo.

Angry and stressed, Brookline slowly made her way back to her sisters’ chosen compartment. Perhaps it will be easy to find.

xx xx // 1,274 words september first, 2026 // occ come join an angsty teenager on the train! i know i’m late (as it’s september twenty-fifth), but that’s okay