Birdie sat on the bench and stared at the petal-covered floor. Her eyes were filled with tears, but she had no need to hold them back. She rarely cried. Whereas the muggle kids cried and screamed when they didn't get their way, Birdie knew how to deal with negativity and rejection. It numbed the pain, if only a bit. But there were moments every so often. Where she would get her hopes up that maybe, just maybe her parents would come out of that blasted study and spend time with their children for once. She heard a click and picked her head up to see her brother enter the garden.
"Oh. Hey... hey Ollie." She choked out past the knot in her throat, the knot that grew and shrunk with every breath she took. She let out a sigh.
"I'm probably being overdramatic. It's just... I really hoped they'd agree this time. I tried so hard. I tried explaining how taking a break would improve their productivity. They told me that children make them stressed. I tried convincing them that we deserve rewards for our report cards. They told me 'Oh, it's just kindergarten, that's easy'. It's like they refuse to listen!" She cried out in frustration.

Oliver took a seat next to her. "You're not being overdramatic. We both know how difficult they are."
He sighed. "If it makes you feel better, I tried right after you... and got rejected. So, that means that they're like that with everyone, right?"
He sighed, knowing full well that nothing he said could make her feel better. Their parents, however social outside of the mansion, were cold, awful people inside of the walls. He wondered how someone so distant and emotionless could have as many friends as their parents did. Perhaps magic. Witches and wizards were capable of many things, so why not befriending powerful people? Or maybe they were just liars. Ollie decided that that was the most likely answer.
Liars hiding behind mock emotions. Like psychopaths. That would explain the chilling atmosphere that seemed to follow them around.
He glanced at the rose bushes that surrounded the garden for no particular reason. "Like roses." He murmured to himself. "Inviting on the outside, prickly on the inside."
He felt a sudden weight on his shoulder and turned around to see his sister, resting her head on his shoulder. "Are you okay?" He asked quietly, hoping that he wasn't accidentally yelling in her ear.

She laid her head on his shoulder. "It's just... do they hate us?"
Her voice trembled as if there was an earthquake in her vocal chords. "They're so nice to everyone else... why not us?" Tears started to flow down her face, something she hadn't felt in a while.
"Am I too annoying? Too loud? Too dumb?" She wiped away her tears. "Or maybe I'm a crybaby."
Sniffles punctuated every sentence she managed to choke out. Her face had become a mess of snot and tears. It was... disheartening to cry after managing to keep a straight face for so long. "Dangit..." She muttered under her breath as messy tears soaked into Ollie's shirt. She picked herself up off his shoulder.
"Sorry... I think I AM being a crybaby. It's stupid of me to cry over freedom. What kind of brat does that?" She laughed quietly, the sad kind of laugh that comes from despair and jokes that aren't funny.
"And sorry to dirty your shirt..." She murmured, wiping the tears and snot remaining on her face with her already-damp sleeves. She let out breathless hiccups and gasps as she desperately tried to regain her lost pride, which was already pretty non-existent to begin with.

As his sister sank deeper and deeper into despair, his heart felt as if it would split in two. Still, he refused to give in. "No..." He whispered, hugging her. "No, it's not you. Not you at all. It's just... our parents are awful people, Birdie. They are cold, mean, and heartless. You don't have to apologize for being lonely or having feelings. They sure don't." He sighed.
"It's in human nature to seek companionship with family. So maybe they're not exactly human inside. But we are. And we have each-other!"
Ollie smiled. "Come on, I'll take you to the playground and get you some ice cream, if the ice cream trolley lady's there. That's where you wanted us to go as a family, right? We'll leave a note in our room so if anyone needs us, they'll know where we are." He nonchalantly promised, as if anyone would notice they were gone.
Well, maybe the house-elves. But they wouldn't exactly care. Heck, some of them would even celebrate their absence. But best not to bring that up right now. Or ever, really.
It's not exactly the most positive thing to suggest. Especially if you're trying to cheer someone up. That's when Ollie realized that maybe he should stop thinking so hard.

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Years later... •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Birdie sat on Ollie's cold bed, adorned in a fine black gown and hair clip, a contrast from her usual light clothing. She choked back tears, a feeling she barely felt. She'd known how do deal with rejection, but rarely ever loss. Sure, there was the Nomming of '10, but that was inevitable. This, however... She kept thinking about everything she could have done. Everything she should have done. Every thought hurt her more and more. But an overlooming anxiety hung over her. "What am I going to do all alone...?" And then she spotted a little dot of green outside of her window. She opened it up and let in the owner of the color, a short little baby green-eyes. "Hiya..." She cooed quietly, trying not to scare the chick away. The chick hopped forward, unafraid of the child. "Ollie?" She murmured, confused as to why the bird would be so friendly towards her. "Is that you?" The bird let out a peep, like any bird would. Birdie's eyes, previously dull and lifeless, lit up like a baby bird on fire as the star of a Christmas tree. "I knew you would always be by my side!" She grinned.