Title: Whatever happened to Polly Plummer?
Disclaimer: I don't pretend to have any claims on the characters, places and situations that are recognizable. They were not created by me, and are protected under copyright.
A/N: So… this is prologue for a plot bunny that attacked me today. Please give me some feedback. I'm trying to write in the style of Lewis, (with my own twist... scary, I know!)but I'm so used to Harry potter fics I'm afraid it backfired. I have a whole huge story idea, so if you want me to continue let me know!
This story, although it begins much earlier in the recesses of time and space, is that of a seventeen-old-girl. She was slightly pretty, with thick, blonde hair that curled every which way and left her looking like a porcelain doll. In summers, she would visit her good friend Digory at his big country house. When she felt the world was against her (which was often), she would sit down at her desk for hours writing letters to the boy that were never sent. She didn't want to burden her friend with her troubles, but writing about things helped. It made her feel better. Having been sent to an elite boarding school on scholarship for the past seven years didn't.
Her only consolation every year was that Digory would write in May, when the birds sang outside of her window, and ask her to his big house for the holidays. She would count down the days, and return home for some time with her mother and father. Then a carriage would whisk her away to the only place she was truly happy. When she was with Digory, she felt the vibrations of lionsong resonate in her ears. May the 1st came, and Polly was beside herself with excitement. This was her last year learning useless facts and figures, and she couldn't wait for the summer to start.
Polly waited patiently. May the 8th came and went… one week. Nothing came. Soon it was May the 15th that came and went, and May the 22nd. It had never taken Digory this long before. She didn't understand. "It's his last year of school, too." She thought. "We should be exchanging letters, planning adventures. He was going to finish teaching me to ride this year. The stables at his house are wonderful."
By the time May the 29th came, Polly was so disappointed that she didn't even bother to defend herself when Mildred Tucker made fun of her shabby dress. She hated the dress too. Red ribbons, faded into an unnatural sort of pink, hung like wilted petals from a withered stem. It was an ugly bit of clothing, and sad. Like her.
Finally, it was May 31st, and a letter came for Polly. This would be the day she was going home, and as she held the rough envelope in her hand she closed her eyes and smiled. "Digory, I knew you'd come through."
She ran her finger under the closed flap to release the letter. It smelled like forests, pine… like Digory. She opened the paper, read for a few seconds, and her smile started to fade. Her eyes darted all of the paper, frantically, but all that came up was "sorry", "starting university early", and "maybe next year…" Polly fell to the floor and cried.
On the ride back to her dirty house in London, Polly grew madder and madder at Digory. She called him selfish, crazy, and a bad friend in her mind. Then she would argue herself the point as she knew he was really none of these things. Polly felt betrayed all the same.
As they pulled in front of her door, Polly let one tear slide down her cheek. "This is the last one. The last time I cry for him. I'm going back to Narnia without him." That night, crawling over the fence where she had met the "wreched blubbering boy", Polly pointed a torch at the spot where it was buried. The box that would take her back.