As the day dawned, Susan sat at her window in her rather small flat, anxiously waiting for her siblings to arrive on the train. She sat there, staring out, wondering why they continued to dote on their childhood fantasy land of Narnia as the final notes of Beethoven's "Pathetique Sonata" rang out from her radio.

"And that concludes the piano recital by Giovanni Pellegrini. My, what an accomplished pianist he is," the announcer finalized. "Oh, what's this? Breaking news? A tragic accident occurred last night at the train station in London."

Upon hearing those words, Susan turned around quickly, alarmed. She walked briskly to the radio and turned up the volume.

"The train seemed to have fallen off of the rails and into the crowd of people standing on the platform. There are currently 75 confirmed deaths, 250 injured, and 150 missing persons. I have a list of those killed in the accident, and will now proceed to this list. Bathilda Abernathy..." the announcer continued into a long list of names while Susan sat in front, hoping against everything that her family was alive.

"...Diggory Kirke..."

"Oh, no, the professor is dead," Susan sighed remorsefully, remembering fond memories of her time at his large house in the countryside. She remembered all of the games she had played and all of the things she had done with her siblings during their stay. She remembered the wardrobe; how Lucy had gone into the magical place called Narnia first and that they had not believed her at once, but soon, they all had had their time there, too.

"Narnia, that fantasy land of our childhood. If only it had been real," Susan reminisced.

The announcer continued through the names, never once faltering, "...Edmund Pevensie, Frank Pevensie, Helen Pevensie, Lucy Pevensie, Peter Pevensie, Polly Plummer, Jill Pole..."

Susan slumped down to the floor, stupefied. After all of her hoping, she had still heard their names. She wanted to stand up, yell, cry, go back in time, and turn off the radio all at the same time, but only sat there, not moving an inch as the reality of losing her entire family sank into her.

"...Eustace Scrubb..."

At hearing her cousin's name, she regained control of herself, and ran to the radio to turn it off. She fell onto the floor and began to cry. She cried and cried, the floor around her becoming sopping wet with tears.

As she cried, a figure walked to her and began nuzzling her cheek, "Do not cry, Daughter of Eve," Aslan spoke softly, comfortingly.

"Aslan," Susan jumped upon recognizing him, bumping her shoulder into the radio.

"Susan, do not be afraid, do you not remember all of the times we were together, all of the times you and your brothers and sister were in Narnia?" Aslan reminded, inviting another surge of tears to spring forth from Susan's eyes. "Why did you turn your back to all of it?"

"Oh, Aslan! I'd thought it was all just a childhood game, a fantasy reserved for children alone, unwelcome in the adult world," Susan explained. "I thought it wasn't real," she timidly concluded, knowing she was wrong, the proof standing in front of her in the form of a mighty lion.

"And, yet, here I am, showing you that it was not fantasy. Susan, your family is with me, safe, out of this Shadowland, and into the Foreverland," Aslan comforted, but at the mention of her family, Susan's eyes began to water for the third time that morning, and she wept again. "Susan, do not cry. Hold my mane."

Susan crawled on her knees to him and wrapped her arms around his large head while he began to link away her tears. "But, Aslan, if all of the things in Narnia really happened, then how did they die in a train accident? The Pevensies have always been strong and have withstood everything. It's so ironic for them to die in a mere train wreck."

"Susan, you must understand that everyone is only mortal. Everyone must be born, and everyone must die. Everyone has a beginning and an end, just like the day," Aslan replied. Susan looked into his omniscient eyes, looking into the ageless wisdom that filled them, and suddenly felt a wave of hatred overpower her, like a tsunami on a beach.

She took her hands away from Aslan, wiped the remaining tears off of her face, and shouted, "If you knew they were going to die, then why didn't you try to stop it? Were you too cowardly to save them? Is that it? Or did you want to keep them for yourself?"

"Susan, try to calm down..."

"No, I won't! You could have saved my family, but let them die instead."

Aslan stood up as she fell into hysterics, screaming, "I hate you! I can't believe you'd just let them die! I hate you so much!"

After Aslan tried and failed to placate her, he let out a mighty roar that woke the other inhabitants of the apartment and had them rushing to her door to see if she was alright.

One by one, they came to her door, and she ushered Aslan into a room invisible from the front door, and she repeatedly explained to them that it had been the nothing but the radio malfunctioning.

"Alright, Susan, but if that happens again, I'll have a mechanic lickety-split," the last of the neighbors, Mrs. Washam, reassured her. Mrs. Washam was an elderly lady who lived two floors down.

"Thank you, Mrs. Washam, but that won't be necessary."

"Oh, yes, it will, with a bang like that."

"Heh heh. Thank you, Mrs. Washam."

"No worries, dearie," with that, Mrs. Washam began the trek back down to her residence.

Susan closed the door and beckoned Aslan back to the room.

"Susan, if you had let me speak earlier, you would have known earlier that I cannot change the future, but merely see it. If I were to change it, the end of this world would come sooner than it should, and everyone here would become stuck in a world that no longer exists. Would you want that? Because, I know I wouldn't," Aslan explained, perhaps a little too harsh than he meant to be.

Once again, Susan was stupefied.

"You see, Susan, everything follows a linear progression of events. I cannot morph them once they have been set in stone," Aslan reinforced, giving Susan a gentle blink of his eyes. "I know how hard it can be to lose someone you love."

Susan became desperate, "But, you can bring them back, right? Can't you? Please bring them back. I'll give you anything. I feel so alone without them, I can't bear it."

"I'm sorry, Susan, but that is impossible, you know that." Aslan bowed his head.

Susan started choking up. "Then what am I supposed to do?" Susan started sobbing again.

"Rest, my child. Later today, you will have much to do."

"But, how can I rest when my entire family just died?" Susan was in another puddle again.

"Just close your eyes, Daughter of Eve."

Susan did as she was told, and Aslan took a deep breath that filled his large lungs, then blew gently in her face, a long steady blow that never seemed to have an end, and Susan felt oddly calm during the length of the blow.

When it stopped, Susan opened her eyes and looked around. She was in her bed, all evidence of the events earlier that morning vanished. She blinked twice, sat up, and checked the time. The clock on the far wall from her bed read 6:45.

"Was it all just a dream?" Susan pondered, disappointed that Aslan had not been real, but relieved that her family was alive.

She got out of bed and changed her clothes. Then, she went to the kitchen, prepared the kettle, and made a breakfast of eggs and toast.

After finishing breakfast and the tea from the kettle, Susan went to the front door to collect the daily newspaper. As she bent sown to reach for it, she noticed the headline. "Deadly Train Crash Kills 75," it read across the top of the page. She stopped as everything from earlier that morning came crashing down upon her again. Her family was truly dead.

Before she could start crying, she snatched up the paper and closed the door. Once the door was closed, she hastily opened the paper and began reading voraciously. As she got further and further into the article, she started weeping harder and harder. There was a list of the deceased, and among the names, she found the professor's, her entire family's, and her cousin, Eustace's.

"So, everything hadn't been a dream," Susan confirmed with a solemn nod of her head. "My family is dead, and I'm the only one left."

She became very solemn, like a queen, as she accepted the fact that her family was dead and she was the only surviving member.

She put the newspaper down on the table, put on her shoes, and went to retrieve the mail. On the way, many people came to offer their condolences to Susan, "I'm so sorry." "If there's anything I can do for you, do not be afraid to ask." "They're watching you from above."

Susan just thanked them and moved on. All she wanted to do was get the mail and go straight back to her flat.

When she got to the mailbox, a particularly lewd teenager said to her, "I'll help you create a new family." She threw a nasty look in his direction and ignored him for the rest of the time. She opened her box. Inside, she found three letters and a chest. She took them all out and stared at the chest, wondering what it was and what was in it. Then, she closed the mailbox.

All the way back to her flat, she looked at the chest, trying to open it, but failing. She opened the door to her flat and walked to the kitchen, setting the chest on the table. She got a letter opener out of a drawer and opened the first letter. This was from the police. She took out the letter and began reading:

"Susan Pevensie,

We must regretfully inform you of your family's death. All we were able to uncover from the wreckage was the box to be put in your mail, found in the lap of a certain Lucy Pevensie. The key that could possibly go to the box, found in her pocket, is inside the envelope. We, unfortunately, could not salvage anything more.

British Crime Patrol"

Susan looked into the envelope and took out the key. It was was a small, ancient-looking key with an ornate golden lion at the end. She then turned her attention to the chest. It was a beautiful, rosewood box with many different designs on it. It had many engravements of centaurs, fawns, dwarves, giants, and all sorts of other fairy tale creatures, surrounding a lion's face in the center with a mane like the sun's rays around it in a ring. In the mouth, was was a small keyhole that looked a perfect size for the key.

Susan looked from the chest to the key in her hand, and back to the chest. She put the key in the keyhole and noticed the mouth completely covered the key to the point it was no longer visible.

Suddenly, she had an awful feeling that something was very wrong about the chest, and did not open it.

She went back to the letters, deciding to open one labeled from the morgue, telling her she was the single heir to everything Prof. Kirke and the Pevensies, and beckoned her to their building on Main and 23rd streets before 18:00 that evening. She ignored the letter for now, her gains off of their deaths was not her priority for now.

The third letter was peculiar. It was had a red envelope with a lion stamp and no return address. "How strange," Susan chided before opening the final letter. A chill suddenly permeated through the first air, and Susan shivered.

She began reading the letter:

Susan,

I'm very sorry for the loss of your family. I noticed the police put a box in your mail. YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO DESTOY THIS BOX AND THE KEY! I do not have much time to explain, but you must do as I say. Evil forces, many evil forces, are coming for that box, and they will stop at nothing to get it. Susan, you are being targeted and, until you destroy the box, you will continue to be targeted and, possibly, killed. Please heed these words, as they could mean the difference between life and death. DO NOT HESITATE!

Your Watchful Eye"