The Pathway of Life
How could I have known that choosing one road over another could have made such a difference in my life?
This argument was probably the worst one so far. I mean…sure me and my parents have had occasional tiffs about my life choices, but it has never been this bad. I can still remember their shocked faces when I screamed that I was leaving, I was going to live on my own from now. Of course, the silence didn't last long. My mother started one of her annoying rants about being ungrateful. When she starts, it's advisable to stay at least a kilometer away from her; you never know when your eardrums could blow up.
She was screaming at me even when I stomped upstairs to pack my stuff. I got my school bag and emptied all my book in the middle of my room. I threw in my clothes, my phone, my bus card, some of my money, my credit card and some food. I looked around the crazy mess of my room and then squeezed my eyes shut so I could remember this place forever. I wondered what they would do with the rest of my things...probably burn it in the dead of the night as though it was the evidence of some dreadful crime.
Walking downstairs again, I saw my mother had finally stopped shouting, but she still glared at me when I walked past. She stomped over and yanked the door open, almost pushing me out herself. I barely managed to get my coat before I was standing on the front porch, with my mother glowering coldly at me.
"Go," she said, her voice a deathly hiss, "Go then, if you don't want our care. We have no place for ungratefulness under this roof. Go and earn your own living, if you are brave enough. But just remember, don't come back with your apologies. I'm ashamed of you. If only you were more like your brother".
And with that, she slammed the door shut in my face, without a hug or even a goodbye. I could just make out my father's face as he watched us with an expression of sadness on his bearded face. He looked at me and our eyes met for a second, before my mother slammed the door shut. Somehow, my father's silence hurt me more than my mother's words.
A strange lump rose in my throat and I fiercely wiped away a few stray tears. This was not the time to cry, for God's sake! I needed to come up with a plan, not sit and weep! I looked up at the cloudy sky and began walking. A few raindrops were making their way towards the ground and I needed to get out of the open before it started raining properly. Still deep in thought, I walked past the bus stop near our house….no, my parent's house now. The gravel crunched beneath my feet as I took shelter under the bus stop from the rain. I could just make out the outline of the bus coming here.
Suddenly, a spectacular idea hit me, but for a moment I hesitated. Did I dare? If I went by with this plan, I would be going far, far away from here. And as far into my bleak future I could see, there wasn't a chance of me coming back here. A split second decision was all it took, and I put my arm out to hail the bus. A small, tiny part of me wished that the driver wouldn't see me, so I had no choice but to wait and make up my mind properly.
Of course, my luck was never that good. The bus pulled over and halted in front of me, the doors opening even before it properly stopped. With a heavy heart, I got on the bus and choose a seat near the window. Peeling my wet coat off my body, I stared outside, intent on capturing every detail of this place in my mind. All of my childhood memories were here…I really didn't feel like leaving. But what choice did I have? It's not like I had anywhere to go!
My heart thumped wildly against my chest. It was either telling me that I did the right thing or that I completely messed up. Knowing my luck, it was most likely the latter. If I left to the city, I would be able to get a job there. I would be able to make my own way around, get my own place, and meet new people. And I knew I had enough money in my bank account to get my own apartment and keep me going for a while. But leaving would make it real, the fact that I had argued with my parents so badly that they had thrown me out of the house. I may never see them again.
As soon as that thought came into my head, my stomach gave a painful lurch and I felt like throwing up. I mentally wished goodbye to everyone I knew, hopefully I would be able to find others just as awesome in the big city. The bus was already driving through the countryside, my parent's house being at the end of the city. I closed my eyes and leaned backwards, hoping to get a few winks of sleep before I reached.
How is it that choosing one road over another can make such a difference in a person's life?
Ten years later
A man, with hair the color of dust and the bluest eyes you would ever see, walked along with his family on the ninth platform of King's Cross Station. On his left, clutching his hand so hard that it throbbed, was a thirteen-year-old girl, and on the other side walked his wife, consoling a tearful toddler.
The family weaved their way across the crowd, their destination unknown to most. Just as they reached the brick wall between platform 9 and 10, the girl broke into a run, her hand still attached to her father who was running to keep up. The father closed his eyes as the brick wall came closer and closer, but the girl ploughed mercilessly onwards. Just as they were about to be dashed to smithereens, they passed through the wall as though it wasn't there at all. A moment or two later, the mother followed too, in her hands a sniffling toddler.
They had entered a different place, still part of the station, but unplottable to non-magical people. On the tracks stood a scarlet engine with the words "Hogwarts Express" written on top in gold. All around, children stood or ran, dragging their trunks and indignant pets, saying last minute tearful goodbyes or laughing with others their own age. The girl ran off as she caught sight of her friends with a joyous shout, leaving the man to pacify his baby son with a treat later. Everyone jumped as the train gave a shrill whistle, and the man's wife started getting agitated as she searched for her daughter in the crowd.
Just as she looked like she was going to cry from despair, the girl appeared, much to her relief. She kissed her on the cheek and hugged her father goodbye. She picked up her baby brother and gave him a kiss on the head, before grabbing her trunk and climbing onto the train. It began to pull out of the station and after a second, the same head popped out of the window and waved goodbye. The family waved back, the mum joining the little boy in his rhapsody of sniffles. The man put his arm around her, shaking away the painful memories that always arose when he saw her leaving her parents. But unlike him, she was not alone, nor did she not know where she was off to.
How was he to know that choosing one road over another would make such a difference in his life?