121An: I've come to realize that I've missed Char and the gang. So, here is a taste of the SEQUEL to The Marauders and Me. I'm not sure where I'm going with it yet and I admit that it will have a slightly different tune to it. Anyone have any ideas, opinions...anything! Just write me, I would be grateful.
Disclaimer: I don't own J.K.'s characters. Or anything else you poor sods recognize.
A Blast From The Past.
Prologue.
I didn't want to go. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to leave them. I didn't want to leave him. There were a lot of things that I didn't want to do in October, 1989.
That was approximately 3 years ago now and unlike my parents hopes and thoughts I haven't let it go. I haven't forgotten, I never will.
My old boyfriend Dylan came to see me but left rather quickly when I dismissed him as soon as he opened his big mouth. I now knew what real love was and Dylan…wasn't it.
Viola and David, Vi and Dave my two friends came to see me too. I hurt them, I know I did. I didn't want to talk to them, they didn't understand, wouldn't and couldn't understand. They didn't know me anymore. I had changed, Vi just wasn't my best friend any more; Lily was. And Dave was far from the guy I used to call my brother; he had been replaced by James.
When I didn't stop crying and trying to find ways to get back, or telling them about what happened to me they sent me to a shrink. Dr. Malcolm Furlong thought I was insane. At one point he almost made me believe that I was insane but then something happened…a sign that everything they said was a dream…really did happen.
I was rummaging through my things looking for a pen to write in my new diary, the doctor's orders, when I spotted it. It wasn't anything special really; it was a charm bracelet with a few charms on it; a rattle, a heart, a paw print and a key. You could find similar ones in any jewellery store, nothing odd about it. Except that this bracelet was mine, a present given to me when I was pregnant with a child that was supposedly a dream, a gift from a husband of my own imagination. And just like that, my hope was restored.
~o~o~o~
It was a week later when I was on my way to Dr. Furlong's office that it happened. I could see the good doctors' window, he was standing there looking at me and waved with a sympathetic smile on his face and that look of pity in his eyes that I hated. I knew what was going through his mind; poor girl, so young and delusional. A project he didn't know if he could solve. I knew that he saw me as a pretty hopeless case, my refusal in "acknowledging reality" irked him fiercely. While I was still deep in thought, staring at the Dr. I saw his facial expression change. Gone was the pity and frustration and instead his eyes screamed fear, shock and panic. I was confused until he started waving at me and apparently shouting something because I could see his lips moving. I don't think I've ever heard such a terrifying noise as the one that reached my ears next; the screeching of brakes. I turned slowly and like in one of those movies when time stops and everything goes in slow motion I saw a big ass truck moving towards me. I wasn't even standing in the middle of the road, so I shouldn't have been in danger. But I guess the truck driver lost control or something. The last thing I remember was watching the panicked face of the truck driver, his name was George and he would later forget all about this incident like it never happened, as he sped uncontrollably towards me. I closed my eyes and waited for the impact, but it never came.
Dr. Furlong would seconds later swear that he saw me disappear into thin air before the truck hit the spot I was standing in. But he would also, only seconds after that not remember me at all.
~o~o~o~
The papers next day would report that George Willow, father of three from Sussex, had crashed into a therapist's office. Luckily no one was hurt and the only witness was a Dr. Malcolm Furlong that watched it happen safely from his office window.
No one would recall seeing a young woman at the scene. No one remembered her almost being hit by the truck or disappearing without a trace. It was like she never existed.
~o~o~o~
The next minute, miles from there I sat up taking a deep breath like I had been drowning.