(no subject)
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Something's Missing Here' / Saturday September 16th, 2006 / 4:46 PM.
Location: Greenhouse #7
Open To: Liese and anyone else
Currently Involving: Lou
Carl the Thestral was a comfort.
Pulling on his cotton-stuffed wings, Louvika Hawkins looked down into the button eyes of the thestral plushie and found that her visage was suddenly blurred. Again
Groping along the work bench she was sitting on, Lou found something that felt like what she was looking for. But putting it to her wet eyes, she discovered that it was not, infact, her handkerchief. It was a scrap of parchment, taped to a newspaper article.
Gillingsworth Found Dead on Parent's Front Porch
Underneath it was scrawled her own mother's familliar handwriting: I am so sorry, baby. Owl me, please. -Mawthir
Try as she might, Lou couldn't find herself throwing the article and the letter away. She hadn't replied to the owl yet, either. She hadn't been able to muster the courage to pick up a quill and write those words to her mother: I'll be fine.
No one used Greenhouse #7 this early on in the year, except the Herbology teacher. Said teacher had greeted an odd procession that morning-- Lou, her very red eyes, Carl the Thestral, and a handkerchief. Knowing it was no use arguing that Jenna Gillingsworth's dormmate should make a brave stab at attending classes that day, the kindly professor had unlocked Greenhouse #7 for Lou's use.
And there she'd sat. A couple of people had come in once or twice, looking for forgotten books or for the professor, but they never stayed long once they'd seen Lou.
Unable to find the handkerchief, Lou resorted to using Carl's wings to dab her tears, not dismayed to see flecks of mascara coming off too. "Thanks, Carl," she murmured, quietly--quiet enought to hear the footsteps coming from outside.
Location: Greenhouse #7
Open To: Liese and anyone else
Currently Involving: Lou
Carl the Thestral was a comfort.
Pulling on his cotton-stuffed wings, Louvika Hawkins looked down into the button eyes of the thestral plushie and found that her visage was suddenly blurred. Again
Groping along the work bench she was sitting on, Lou found something that felt like what she was looking for. But putting it to her wet eyes, she discovered that it was not, infact, her handkerchief. It was a scrap of parchment, taped to a newspaper article.
Gillingsworth Found Dead on Parent's Front Porch
Underneath it was scrawled her own mother's familliar handwriting: I am so sorry, baby. Owl me, please. -Mawthir
Try as she might, Lou couldn't find herself throwing the article and the letter away. She hadn't replied to the owl yet, either. She hadn't been able to muster the courage to pick up a quill and write those words to her mother: I'll be fine.
No one used Greenhouse #7 this early on in the year, except the Herbology teacher. Said teacher had greeted an odd procession that morning-- Lou, her very red eyes, Carl the Thestral, and a handkerchief. Knowing it was no use arguing that Jenna Gillingsworth's dormmate should make a brave stab at attending classes that day, the kindly professor had unlocked Greenhouse #7 for Lou's use.
And there she'd sat. A couple of people had come in once or twice, looking for forgotten books or for the professor, but they never stayed long once they'd seen Lou.
Unable to find the handkerchief, Lou resorted to using Carl's wings to dab her tears, not dismayed to see flecks of mascara coming off too. "Thanks, Carl," she murmured, quietly--quiet enought to hear the footsteps coming from outside.