My name is Alicia Spinnet.
Spinnet.
Spinster.
Spin.
Sometimes I sense that my name is all too appropriate, especially lately. My life feels like it spins out of control more and more each day, not unlike my performance at Quidditch practice tonight. My mind was wandering, taking my attention and focus along with it. I sure hope they were all having fun as I went plummeting toward the ground on a rogue patch of wind. I struggled to regain control of my broom, and just as it felt that I had, I made a crash landing on the muddy grass of the Quidditch pitch, leaving me soaked and covered in mud. Practice was essentially over anyway, so I shouldered my broom and walked toward the changing rooms, imagining everyone was whispering behind my back about my sanity.
I often overestimate others' reactions.
By the time I made it to my locker, I could hear footsteps behind me, stepping deliberately and quietly. I lifted my robes over my head and without turning to look behind and asked, "What do you want?" The intruder stepped closer, and I could feel their presence more intensely now.
"Alicia, are you okay?" It was Oliver. I really couldn't handle a pep talk or word of advice from him, not right now.
"Wonderful, Oliver. Thanks for being concerned." I shoved my robe into my locker in a messy heap (which I knew I would regret later) and turned around, walking past Oliver and onto the grounds. I couldn't get to the castle fast enough.