3 Jan 2022, 23:40
"Death is but the next great adventure" –Albus Dumbledore
Alexa Mackenzie stood ready at the door of the Hogwarts Express as the great engine braked and steam flew all about on Platform 9 3/4 in London, England. Hardly waiting for the train to come to a complete stop, Alexa leapt onto the platform, reached behind her, and laboriously pulled her trunk along with her. It held three years of Hogwarts miscellanea, and would need to be cleared out before her fourth year, but that was a couple of terms away. This was only the Christmas break.
Alexa was somewhat apprehensive about this break. It would be the first time she had seen her father since she had left him this summer, after the death of her mother had left him a broken man. They had wrote frequently over the school year so far, but his letters were far from satisfactory: usually one sentence responses to her much longer missives about her goings-on at school. She asked him frequent questions about what he was doing, how he was doing, what he was thinking about lately, what people he had seen, even what he had eaten for dinner, but these questions were rarely answered. All she usually got back was something to the effect of, "Doing well, glad to hear from you. Love, Dad." Very unsatisfactory, indeed.
She had told him she was coming for Christmas, but also told him that she would make her way up to Inverness on her own. He could pick her up at the station there, and he had agreed to this, probably because gas money driving all the way to London would be too expensive. For just such an eventuality, she had changed over some of her wizard money that summer into Muggle money, and after passing through the platform barrier, she disappeared into the train station, her trunk on a trolley, on her way to find a ticket and a train to Inverness, Scotland.
The ticket master was unsurprised that someone who seemed rather young would be buying their own ticket; he grumbled about all the young people traveling these days as he stamped her ticket and took her money. She had a two hour wait before her next train left the station, so she settled down on the bench to do so. Unobtrusively, she quietly scratched her pet rat, Rascal, who was hidden underneath her sweater in her T-shirt pocket. She couldn't risk taking him out in the station for fear of frightening Muggles. But maybe on the train, if she got a private compartment…
No such luck. She was crammed into a compartment with several old ladies who were knitting and talking away, and one sleeping man, who snored quietly in the corner. Alexa wedged herself into the corner, and leaned against the cold window, watching the snow fall on the City of London as the train pulled away from the station. It was a long ride.
When she finally reached Inverness, she spent a long time on the platform looking for her father. She finally found him, looking lost, standing at the edge of the platform. He looked as though he wondered why he was there, staring vacantly ahead of himself. She was dismayed at his appearance. He had lost much weight since she had seen him last, and all of his clothes were tattered and dirty. She positioned herself in front of him and said, "Hey dad," and it took him a minute to look down at her and smile. He hugged her with one arm but said nothing. He simply took her trunk and headed toward the parking lot.
Alexa stood frozen for a moment, shocked, and then followed after him. The car was more battered than she had seen it. She wondered if he had gotten in accidents, not that he had ever mentioned them in his letters… She grew more worried as she climbed inside the passenger front seat and buckled up. Beside her, her father climbed in the driver's seat and looked at her with a vague smile again. "It's good to see you," he finally said, in a voice hoarse from disuse. She wondered when was the last time he had spoken aloud. But now was not the time to bring it up. "It's good to see you too, dad," she said, smiling uncertainly back at him and briefly grasping his hand before he placed it on the wheel of the car.
He pulled jerkily out of the parking lot, almost clipping another car, which slammed on its brakes and honked at him loudly. Alexa shot her father a concerned look, only to see him hunch his shoulders defensively and mutter to himself. She nervously fiddled with her seatbelt.
The rest of the drive continued in this fashion, with her father making hairpin turns too quickly, careening down the roads of Inverness (barely missing hitting cars as he did so), and altogether driving very recklessly… Or, Alexa thought, more like obliviously. He honestly didn't seem aware of his surroundings. The snow flurried down, and she noticed patches of ice upon the roads and bridges. She began to feel sick to her stomach, a terrible feeling of apprehension coming over her… But there was nothing she could do, and she knew that. Something was coming.
And when it came, it was all too sudden, though the moment seemed to last forever at the same time. Crossing an empty bridge high over a freezing river that was flowing fast and deep beneath them, Alexa saw the patch of ice ahead of them in the lane. She yelled, her words not words at all, trying to warn her father, she automatically braced her hands against the roof of the car. Her father's eyes flew wide and he slammed on his brakes, but not in time to miss the black ice. The wheels locked up as they skidded over the ice, careening out of control, the car spinning and sickening circles. Alexa screamed in fright. There was an awful crash, and she was thrown hard against the seatbelt, her head snapping suddenly forward, her red hair flying around her. Everything ceased to move.
Her eyes clamped shut, Alexa registered a strange creaking sound. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, and then gasped. Before her, in an almost beautiful view, a terrible, beautiful view, was the wide river they had been crossing over. But as she blinked rapidly to orient herself and looked around, her neck aching, she realized what was wrong with the picture: there was nothing between the front of the car and a 15 foot plunge into the icy river below. The creaking sound she had heard was the wires holding the bridge, and now tentatively holding the car, which tilted slowly forward and back on the edge of the bridge, having crashed through the barrier.
Alexa leaned as far back into her seat as she could, her eyes wide with terror. Her hand reached over and grabbed her father's arm, shaking it. "Daddy," she whispered. There was no response. Slowly she turned her head, and saw her father, his head resting against the steering wheel, blood streaming down the cut on his forehead, but that was already slowing. His eyes stared at her sightlessly, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. He was gone.
The car continued to creak back-and-forth, and she heard the sharp snap of wires breaking. Turning her face forward, tears streaming down, she stared at the river for a moment. There was a tiny scrabbling on her chest, and if possible, her eyes widened further. "Rascal!" She gasped out, reaching down into her shirt and pulling the rat out of her pocket. He squeaked in terror as she scrambled to roll down the manual window just enough and almost throw the rat in the direction of the bridge behind the car, as the wires finally gave way, and the car plunged into the river below. Alexa would never know if Rascal had survived. Because she did not.
Crouched unobtrusively at the edge of a bridge in the middle of Inverness, Scotland, a small gray rat watched the river below for a long time after the car disappeared into it. There was no sign of the young redheaded girl that he loved. Still he waited. And waited. Nothing moved within the river beside the water itself.
The rat squeaked in distress, turning his head left and right, uncertain of what to do next. But he heard the sirens coming, and knew that he could not stay here. Cold and alone, he quickly scurried to the end of the bridge, paused, and looked back at the river. But there was no one there. His thoughts and his paws turned him northward, to a stone castle filled with magic and light and warmth. A place called home. But one that would seem empty, without her.
Alexa was somewhat apprehensive about this break. It would be the first time she had seen her father since she had left him this summer, after the death of her mother had left him a broken man. They had wrote frequently over the school year so far, but his letters were far from satisfactory: usually one sentence responses to her much longer missives about her goings-on at school. She asked him frequent questions about what he was doing, how he was doing, what he was thinking about lately, what people he had seen, even what he had eaten for dinner, but these questions were rarely answered. All she usually got back was something to the effect of, "Doing well, glad to hear from you. Love, Dad." Very unsatisfactory, indeed.
She had told him she was coming for Christmas, but also told him that she would make her way up to Inverness on her own. He could pick her up at the station there, and he had agreed to this, probably because gas money driving all the way to London would be too expensive. For just such an eventuality, she had changed over some of her wizard money that summer into Muggle money, and after passing through the platform barrier, she disappeared into the train station, her trunk on a trolley, on her way to find a ticket and a train to Inverness, Scotland.
The ticket master was unsurprised that someone who seemed rather young would be buying their own ticket; he grumbled about all the young people traveling these days as he stamped her ticket and took her money. She had a two hour wait before her next train left the station, so she settled down on the bench to do so. Unobtrusively, she quietly scratched her pet rat, Rascal, who was hidden underneath her sweater in her T-shirt pocket. She couldn't risk taking him out in the station for fear of frightening Muggles. But maybe on the train, if she got a private compartment…
No such luck. She was crammed into a compartment with several old ladies who were knitting and talking away, and one sleeping man, who snored quietly in the corner. Alexa wedged herself into the corner, and leaned against the cold window, watching the snow fall on the City of London as the train pulled away from the station. It was a long ride.
When she finally reached Inverness, she spent a long time on the platform looking for her father. She finally found him, looking lost, standing at the edge of the platform. He looked as though he wondered why he was there, staring vacantly ahead of himself. She was dismayed at his appearance. He had lost much weight since she had seen him last, and all of his clothes were tattered and dirty. She positioned herself in front of him and said, "Hey dad," and it took him a minute to look down at her and smile. He hugged her with one arm but said nothing. He simply took her trunk and headed toward the parking lot.
Alexa stood frozen for a moment, shocked, and then followed after him. The car was more battered than she had seen it. She wondered if he had gotten in accidents, not that he had ever mentioned them in his letters… She grew more worried as she climbed inside the passenger front seat and buckled up. Beside her, her father climbed in the driver's seat and looked at her with a vague smile again. "It's good to see you," he finally said, in a voice hoarse from disuse. She wondered when was the last time he had spoken aloud. But now was not the time to bring it up. "It's good to see you too, dad," she said, smiling uncertainly back at him and briefly grasping his hand before he placed it on the wheel of the car.
He pulled jerkily out of the parking lot, almost clipping another car, which slammed on its brakes and honked at him loudly. Alexa shot her father a concerned look, only to see him hunch his shoulders defensively and mutter to himself. She nervously fiddled with her seatbelt.
The rest of the drive continued in this fashion, with her father making hairpin turns too quickly, careening down the roads of Inverness (barely missing hitting cars as he did so), and altogether driving very recklessly… Or, Alexa thought, more like obliviously. He honestly didn't seem aware of his surroundings. The snow flurried down, and she noticed patches of ice upon the roads and bridges. She began to feel sick to her stomach, a terrible feeling of apprehension coming over her… But there was nothing she could do, and she knew that. Something was coming.
And when it came, it was all too sudden, though the moment seemed to last forever at the same time. Crossing an empty bridge high over a freezing river that was flowing fast and deep beneath them, Alexa saw the patch of ice ahead of them in the lane. She yelled, her words not words at all, trying to warn her father, she automatically braced her hands against the roof of the car. Her father's eyes flew wide and he slammed on his brakes, but not in time to miss the black ice. The wheels locked up as they skidded over the ice, careening out of control, the car spinning and sickening circles. Alexa screamed in fright. There was an awful crash, and she was thrown hard against the seatbelt, her head snapping suddenly forward, her red hair flying around her. Everything ceased to move.
Her eyes clamped shut, Alexa registered a strange creaking sound. Tentatively, she opened her eyes, and then gasped. Before her, in an almost beautiful view, a terrible, beautiful view, was the wide river they had been crossing over. But as she blinked rapidly to orient herself and looked around, her neck aching, she realized what was wrong with the picture: there was nothing between the front of the car and a 15 foot plunge into the icy river below. The creaking sound she had heard was the wires holding the bridge, and now tentatively holding the car, which tilted slowly forward and back on the edge of the bridge, having crashed through the barrier.
Alexa leaned as far back into her seat as she could, her eyes wide with terror. Her hand reached over and grabbed her father's arm, shaking it. "Daddy," she whispered. There was no response. Slowly she turned her head, and saw her father, his head resting against the steering wheel, blood streaming down the cut on his forehead, but that was already slowing. His eyes stared at her sightlessly, his neck bent at an unnatural angle. He was gone.
The car continued to creak back-and-forth, and she heard the sharp snap of wires breaking. Turning her face forward, tears streaming down, she stared at the river for a moment. There was a tiny scrabbling on her chest, and if possible, her eyes widened further. "Rascal!" She gasped out, reaching down into her shirt and pulling the rat out of her pocket. He squeaked in terror as she scrambled to roll down the manual window just enough and almost throw the rat in the direction of the bridge behind the car, as the wires finally gave way, and the car plunged into the river below. Alexa would never know if Rascal had survived. Because she did not.
***
Crouched unobtrusively at the edge of a bridge in the middle of Inverness, Scotland, a small gray rat watched the river below for a long time after the car disappeared into it. There was no sign of the young redheaded girl that he loved. Still he waited. And waited. Nothing moved within the river beside the water itself.
The rat squeaked in distress, turning his head left and right, uncertain of what to do next. But he heard the sirens coming, and knew that he could not stay here. Cold and alone, he quickly scurried to the end of the bridge, paused, and looked back at the river. But there was no one there. His thoughts and his paws turned him northward, to a stone castle filled with magic and light and warmth. A place called home. But one that would seem empty, without her.
Sta: 6 Eva: 8 Str: 4 Wis: 9 AP: 9 Acc: 9
Happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light.
– Albus Dumbledore