A Memory
January 16, 2021 3:18 PM
Take care of your brother. by A Memory
As someone approached the spot where a young boy had previously been pacing anxiously outside the Deputy Headmistress' office, unsure yet if he wanted to go in and ask for the help he knew he needed, a silvery white mist formed into the shape of a woman. She was pretty but very tired, and would be very familiar to one other student at Sonora if he visited the spot his brother had been. Her hair pulled back into a ponytail that had been much neater at the start of her shift, the woman was still in her waitress uniform, and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, looking up a little with her arms out to provide some physical affection to a child who was visible only to her."Your brother is going to be okay," she promised with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. It was an expression she'd worn often, as evidenced by the lines in her face, despite the fact that she was rather young. "He always is, isn't he? He'll have to wear a cast for a little while but he'll be alright." She cocked her head a little, worry making its way to her mouth in the shape of a frown. "Are you alright?" she asked, picking up on something in the answer she'd received. Then she shook her head with a chuckle, giving the person she was speaking with a playful tickle. "Don't worry about me, I'll be alright too. I'm always alright."
She drew the unseen figure in for a hug, wrapping her arms around empty space as far as anyone solid would have been able to tell. "You have to take good care of yourself," she murmured, any display of confidence draining from her expression as soon as she was in a position where the boy she hugged couldn't see her face anymore. She was tired. So tired. But it was worth it. Working hard, doing her best . . . it was going to be worth it because it meant that everything would be okay. That didn't mean she wasn't tired though, and sometimes she had to just let herself have a moment to acknowledge that too. "Take care of your brother, too. He needs you, you know. And I need you," she added, a little more shakily. Her tone recovered quickly though, returning to the parental pep talk voice she'd had on before. "So you have to take care of yourself and always be strong, right? I'll worry about that," she added clearly interrupting the protests of the person she hugged. "You just worry about doing your very best." She pulled back, her smile in place once again. "I love you," she promised, giving another playful tickle.
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A Memory
Take care of your brother.
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A Memory
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Oz Spellman
January 18, 2021 5:50 AM
I'm really trying to by Oz Spellman
Oz had pretended to take some advice and a schedule from Mr. Row but most of his homework was still showing up half done, if at all. He figured he had a couple of weeks in which he could ‘try out’ the suggestions before everyone would conclude they were failing and make him talk to an adult again. That was why he was making his way to Professor Skies office after hours because in spite of Mr. Row’s best efforts, his transfiguration homework hadn’t been to her liking and she wanted to talk to him about that. He’d heard that she was absent from class today though, so he was really hoping he could knock on her door, say he’d tried, and then go on with his evening.As he waited for his (overly quiet) knock to be answered or not, he suddenly found that he was not alone. Moreover, it was someone he deeply wanted to see, although he didn’t like seeing her like this – tired, and on the floor and defeated. She was also made out of mist, but this was a magic school and stuff got weird. He’d done a bunch of really weird stuff by mistake before coming to school so maybe he was like telepathically beaming his mom in now or something. He didn’t know. He was just glad to see her, even if he wished he hadn’t disturbed her when she was tired.
“Hey, mom,” he said, crouching slightly. He reached back when she held her hands out to him, even though he was pretty sure he couldn’t hold onto them. Sure enough their fingers slid through each other’s but it was nice of her to try. It was nice of her to be here.
Your brother is going to be okay.
“Yeah, I know,” he assured her, a bit surprised by this sentiment. Henry was always okay. Henry was the one who was steady and smart, and didn’t do stupid things that landed him in trouble. “Are you okay, mom?” he asked. She looked tired and sad. And that was more normal than he’d like to admit, but it just seemed like… extraly.
“Yeah, he is,” he agreed, with a smile, when she stated Henry would always be alright, relieved to find they were thinking the same thing. Except… Cast? What? “Mom, Henry didn’t-” he tried to assure her, but she spoke over him. Or under him. She kept speaking, anyway, and he realised that none of the things she’d said so far had been to him.
“You’re just… like a recording,” he stated sadly. A recording of what though? Except the word ‘cast’ narrowed it down. The utilitarian pattern of the wall behind her head, which he hadn’t noticed because he’d been too pleased to see her, but which was seared onto his memory like a bad dream- “You’re talking to Henry,” he stated, swallowing a lump. He knew it too, not just from the fact that he knew where and when they were, and that he wasn’t in this conversation, but also from the way she spoke. She was talking the way she talked to Henry.
“Urgh, don’t tell him crap like that,” he muttered, as the memory of his mother doled out some really bad advice. “Hey, look,” he stated more urgently. “I don’t know if you can hear me or what? But you need to go.” He felt bad even saying it. It was his mom. But it wasn’t. And she wasn’t supposed to be here. “You could get Henry in trouble,” he added.
And he didn’t know whether she could hear him, or whether it was just coincidence, but at that she disappeared. Oz stood in the corridor. It had been empty and he had been alone when he started down it. It shouldn’t have been any different now. But it felt at least doubly so.
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Oz Spellman
I'm really trying to
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