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|Unresolved||Succeded by: |
Forbes Manor stood big and grand on the topmost peak of Balnevie Brae. With it's impressive white stone walls and fancy black window frames, it looked quite out of place surrounded by the unruly Scottish wilderness. Tangled brambles lined the bottom of the sloping, close-cut lawn and scraggly bushes grew from the steep cliff face hidden away on the other side. The skies were gloomy and overcast and the sea smacked against the smooth boulders at the base of the hill.
(The writing that fills this gap and gives this chapter sense will come reasonably soon.
For being such an old and wobbly broom, the Comet 360 was pretty fast. I soared onwards, swooping low when I reached the river, and dipping my hand into it. The water was icy cold, but strangely calming. Skimming my finger across its surface one last time, I decided that it would be a good idea to get back now. After all, the last thing I wanted was to get caught sneaking out.
Rushing upwards, I flew the broomstick across to my open bedroom window. I dismounted on the roof and threw the Comet 360 into my room, cringing at the loud crashing sound it made as it hit the wooden floor.
I went next, lowering my bottom half in first. I managed to get both my legs through the window. It was only when I tried to get the rest of my body into my bedroom that I realized I was stuck. I was completely wedged in the small windowframe and my legs were too short to reach the top of the drawer.
Panic flared in my chest and I kicked and wriggled in an effort to get myself through the tight space.
“Aisha Rose!” my mother’s voice screeched from somewhere downstairs. My heart thudded in my chest.
Please don’t come upstairs. Please don’t come upstairs. Please don’t –
I heard loud footsteps getting noisier and noisier.
“Dinner is ready!”
Squirming and squeezing, I had another attempt to get through the window. It was no use.
The bedroom door was swung open. I heard my mother gasp.
“Aisha Rose!” Eloise Rose fumed. “What the bleeding hell do you think you're doing? Get down from there this instant!” I knew it was no use even trying, so I stayed where I was. “Well?” Mother screamed. “You think this is funny? Get down!”
“I can’t, Mother,” I told her through gritted teeth. "I'm stuck."
“Stuck? Stuck?!” Mother let out a torrent of swear words that really didn't think eleven year olds should be hearing.
“Stuck means I can’t get down,” I explained impatiently, when she had finished ranting.
“I know what stuck means!” Mother snapped. I heard her footsteps as she approached me. They soon stopped and there was another gasp.
Please don’t have seen the broom. Please –
“You went out on that broomstick didn’t you? After I said never to lay so much as a finger on it!”
“You never said anything of the sort,” I growled. My mother huffed and muttered what I could only assume to be a spell.
A few minutes later, I fell to the floor in a crumpled heap. After lying there, stunned, I rolled over to look up at Mother. She was tall and dressed in all black. Her skin was pale, her eyes a piercing blue and her mouth was set in a frown. Her white-blonde hair fell down her back, reaching her waist. Anybody that didn't know us would never be able to guess that we were mother and daughter. The only things we shared in common were our eyes and pale skin.
“Why can’t you be more like you’re sister?” my mother hissed. “Darling Fern would never escape out of the window to fly on a dirty old branch!” I glared up at her fiercely.
“She probably would if you kept her locked up in her room all day,” I retorted. “Actually, the way you treat me, you’re lucky I even came back.” Eloise Rose turned such a shade of red that I almost expected steam to burst from her ears and fire to stream out of her mouth. Luckily, nothing like that happened.
“Don’t you ever speak to me like that again, young lady!” Mother roared and then called me something I’d rather not mention. She then turned, snatching the Comet 360 from the ground, and stormed out of my room, making sure to lock the door behind her.
I was left lying on the cold wooden floor. Right now, I didn’t even care that I wasn’t going to get any dinner. I wasn’t hungry now.
Glancing up at the window, I contemplated escaping. I wondered whether any of my family would care, or even notice, if I did. But I quickly discarded the thought. Even if I could get out of the tiny window again, how would I get off of the roof, and where would I go?
Sighing, I got up from the floor and lay on my bed. I didn’t feel guilty thinking it anymore. I could even say it aloud.
“I hate my family.”
Even though I knew they couldn’t hear me, I couldn’t have cared if they had. They were an awful, awful family. Fern was spoilt rotten and could get away with anything, especially now that she was a prefect.
My mother and father never stopped fighting with each other, screaming and throwing curses. Just yesterday, they damaged the living room wall so badly that they had had to get it repaired.
I was like a shadow in the corner. They never seemed to see or hear me, but when they did they hated every bit of me, from my brown hair to my rebelliousness.
I was tired of being treated as I was.
Tomorrow, I thought to myself, I’ll show them.
I was woken from my thoughts when the bedroom door creaked open. Little Isla stood there, eyes wide and glowing in the now dim light. I smiled warmly at her. We both had one thing in common now. We both hated the Roses.
“Come quickly,” Isla whispered. “And follow Isla.” I gave her a questioning look but she just shook her head.
Quickly and quietly, I got up off of my bed and made my way silently across the room to the small elf. She ushered me forwards with one hand and pressed the finger of her other to her lips.
I tip-toed down the stairs, confused but curious as to what Isla had to show me. Hurriedly, we made our way down to the very bottom of the staircase.
The little elf led me forwards and stopped at the half open living room door.
Inside, Fern was sitting cross-legged on the sheep-skin rug in front of the fire. My mother and father sat on one of the expensive sofas, and for once, they weren’t arguing.
It took me a while to figure out why, but my eyes finally flickered towards a second family. There was what I assumed to be the mother, a hard-faced, pale-skinned woman with long black hair. Beside her was a tall man with curly, dark brown hair who was frowning at something. At his feet was a small boy with a shock of black hair that was glaring over in Fern’s direction.
It was a while before I noticed the other boy of about my age sitting a bit away from the rest of his family. He was tall with pale skin and shoulder-length black curls. There was no use denying it, he was breathtakingly handsome, although at this moment, he looked unhappy. But he was not grumpy or angry like the rest of his family; he just seemed miserable to be here.
The boy must have felt my gaze on him, for he turned around and our eyes locked. I stood there, frozen, staring at his beautiful brown eyes in horror, before Isla tugged at my sleeve. I quickly moved out of the way of the door – just in time too.
“What are you staring at, boy?” came a voice from inside. I guessed it was the mother of the unknown family.
I sighed in relief and ran down the corridor to the staircase. I took the steps two at a time until I got to my bedroom. Isla was right behind me, casting the muffliato charm as soon as we were both inside.
I leaped onto my bed, patting down a space for the house-elf. Isla clambered up beside me.
“Who were those people?” I asked her as soon as we had both settled.
“They are the family that I wanted to tell you about,” Isla told me, her voice barely a whisper. “They cannot be trusted.” I stared at Isla for a long while.
“But who are they?” I asked again.