There, that gets rid of haters (if u still leave a flame concerning my character ur some kind of obnoxious sod that apparently can't read ^ ^) Everyone else, enjoy my fic, thx for being patient with my author scribble and plz leave a review (constructive criticism is welcome) Thx !
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter (sadly . . . or else there'd be some massive character bashing ^ ^;)
**
Chapter 1
The wind was blowing hard that night. Gusts of rain swept in through the open window. A girl came rushing up the stairs to her room. With a firm thrust she shut the source of disruption. "Close that damned window!" a rather weary, worn voice commanded. "I did I did!" the girl shot back, slamming the door. To her it was just another night. Whether it was raining drops of hail and the full moon shone brightly sandwiched amongst stark gray clouds; it was just another night. 2 weeks later it would be no different. Maybe at her earlier stages in life she could have looked forward to her 15th birthday. No, not now though. Nothing around her could infect her with waves of joy. There had been too many things going on for her to even consider smiling again. Her mother had been diagnosed with arthritis, her older brother had disappeared, and both her sisters were expelled from school. To add to that only a month before a strong, great man had left his family for another shot at military life. The man this girl hated, hated and yet loved and missed so much, after all, he was her father.
Leaving them he had also forced them into a new phase of poverty. "Damn him." She thought, taking a pillow off her bead and throwing it at her desk. "Damn him to hell for leaving us. It's not that I'll miss him, but he that he screwed everything up for us. Mom can't handle the four of us. Sean left without a trace, Mei and Xiao got back into drugs, and I won't be able to go back to school." She continued, "Not that I can't study, mind you, but without a job mum can't pay for private school education." The girl, trying hard to force back her tears, walked over to her closet. Beside it there was a full-length mirror. She glanced into it, not in the least satisfied with the image it returned. A rather short, frail looking girl, with red-brown eyes and heavy shadows beneath them, cautiously peered back. Her long straight (but died) hazel brown hair fell over her hunched shoulders. This girl, this loveless, hopeless girl, was I.
I grimaced and turned to my closet. Rummaging through a pile of stuff I came to an old, antique book. It was bound in leather and had black markings on the cover. These were presumably once letters, but father time had rendered them unrecognizable. Next I pulled out my incense burner and three charcoal gonesh sticks. Then came the tarot cards wrapped in a piece of purple velvet, and then the CD player. I turned on heavy punk rock music and then opened the book. Limply pointing my fingers at the three incense sticks I ran my hand over a page of the book. Keeping my eyes closed and my mind focused I muttered a quick word. Instantly they began to levitate slightly above the ground, then followed the path traced by my hand. I twisted it and brought them back down in a command like manner. The incense dropped into their correct places and lit then went out in order for the fragrance to spread properly. With another flick of my wrist the whole burner began to rise and hover in the middle of the room. A slight ray of light shone from it, illuminating the mat and I who sat on it. I began to unwrap my tarot cards and then shuffled them. Then I cut them into three stacks with my left hand. After that I placed six cards facedown in a circular pattern. With a solemn gaze I flipped the first one.
"The Tower." I told myself, "This card represents a sudden catastrophic change, usually in a negative sense. Something's going to happen that will have a drastic affect on the future." Moving on to the next one I reminded myself of its meaning as well, "The Devil card stands for the evil in the world. Greed, Materialism, a desire for destruction. This...this is likely brought on by a change as represented by The Tower." And so I continued reciting what they meant, "The two of cups represents a partnership, usually a positive one, but unfortunately it's upside down. The seven of swords represents deception. Someone avoiding a direct confrontation and instead relying on deceit and the manipulation of others. This is likely caused by the said partnership, which involves the change. The Lovers card stands for a serious emotional decision in this case, rather than a romantic relationship as implied by its name. A big choice will have to be made. Probably one with few options. The sense created by the other cards also gives me the impression that the options that are available are not happy ones"
"The last card of the circle... The Hanged Man. This has a double meaning here. The Hanged Man often means waiting. Probably related to the said decision. But often in these cases, waiting is the worst thing that can be done. This card also stands for a sacrifice. No matter the outcome, there will be a great price. The aforementioned decision shall be waited on due to hesitation over the costs." I took a deep breath. A deep sense of foreboding came over me as I eyed the center card. With a quick, sweeping motion I flipped it over. "Oh for Mefisto's sake!" I complained. "I thought I'd taken this card out." I picked up the Death card and threw it into the closet. "Great, what a waste of time." I murmured. "I always get that bloody card, maybe I should burn it sometime. I'm content enough with usually getting the Fourteen Swords, but this was a pleasant if just as sad change."
Solemnly I packed up my cards and placed them back. After that I grabbed the incense burner and anything else that could catch someone's eye and stashed them behind a large box. Then I turned off the music and left my room behind me. "San, time for bed!" my mother called again. "Yeah. I know." I responded. Of course I knew. You didn't need tarot cards to forestall that your bedtime was 11:30. I returned to my room showered and changed and amazingly tired. Determined not to give up on my habit I pulled out my diary and began to describe the day's happenings. '.... Still wishing I had something to do with my life. Sincerely, Sang Me Zhao.' The final sentence read. Tucking my diary back under the lose floorboard beneath my desk I caught site of something else that had found it's way down there. "What the hell?" I wondered, picking it up, "How did you get down here." Picking up the Death card I looked over it suspiciously and placed it on my desk to deal with is some other time . . .
**
and there u have it, the first step into madness . . .
fellow authors you know how great it is to get a nice review, so spread the joy ^ ^