Chapter 1 – The Final Split

A small boy sat on the blue, carpeted stairs of his home in the coastline town of Fowey, Cornwall. The boy had a mop of mousey hair and his brown eyes seemed far too big for his face. Though he was a naturally excitable person his behaviour was far from it at this moment in time, as he listened to the screaming voices erupting from the kitchen.

"We are not having your parents over again. All they do is sit and talk about plants or their latest piece of furniture. It drives me mad and we end up wasting a whole day just listening to their waffle when we could be spending it with the kids," Brian Creevey hissed.

"You can't tell me who I can and can't have over," his wife, Sophia retorted, scathingly, "This is just as much my house as it is yours."

Brian scoffed, "Not really, who is it that pays for it? Me, that's who."

"We both do," Sophia said through gritted teeth.

"You earn nothing compared to me and I don't even earn that much," her husband challenged.

"Yes but at least I earn something and do you know where most of it has to go? To help my dying sister, that's where. And do you know why I can't get a better job? Because I have to go to the hospital and see her every single afternoon, watching her get steadily worse. So don't you dare mock me like I just sit on my arse all day!"

Sophia screamed the last part and, moments afterwards, Colin heard his mother drop something made of china on the tiled floor, the crash reverberating through the house. The noise caused his little brother, Dennis, to rush out of their shared bedroom, a stricken look on his face.

"What was that, Colin?"

"Mummy just had an accident I think. It's alright, you carry on making that house and I'll be back in a minute."

This was what his evenings generally consisted of recently. Rather than playing games or watching television with his parents and brother like any other eleven year old would, he juggled his time, spending some of it occupying Dennis and the rest crouching on the stairs listening desperately to his parents arguing. They did it most nights. Either that or they didn't really talk to each other at all. Anyhow, Colin took his place on the seventh step each evening without fail because he had to make sure that his parents didn't utter the one phrase that he was terrified of hearing.


That Sunday had begun in exactly the same way as any other. Colin had woken up as his dad had opened the curtains in his and Dennis' room, revealing a dull, grey morning, despite the fact that it was July. The rain could not seem to decide whether it wanted to stay or go and the result was that light sort of drizzle that annoyed everyone. Colin was not bothered, however as he waited excitedly for his father to announce what they were doing that day, for Sundays were the only days that Brian Creevey did not have to leave for work at the crack of dawn. He was a milkman, you see and all his customers were adamant that they received their fresh milk in time for breakfast so he always had to leave by half past five but Sundays were his day off.

"So I was thinking we should go and try your new go-kart in the park, Dennis. How about that?" His father smiled warmly at the two boys. Brian Creevey was of medium height and had the same deep brown eyes as two sons but his hair was black and naturally fell in tight curls so he cut it very short, meaning his forehead was high and his bushy eyebrows very prominent.

"Yeah, cool!" exclaimed Dennis, already jumping out of bed, eagerly.

Dennis had received the go-kart for his ninth birthday during the week and had been dying to try it out. In fact he hadn't stopped talking about it.

"And, Colin you can have a go on it but I'm going first," he told his brother for the thousandth time. Colin simply nodded, pretending he hadn't heard it before and followed his bouncing brother downstairs for breakfast.


The three boys had had a wonderful day, speeding around on the go-kart, getting lunch in the town and strolling along the sparse beach. Dennis had insisted on paddling in the sea but, inevitably a huge wave had crept up behind him and knocked his tiny frame over. At the time he had thought it was hilarious, as he sat on the wet sand, the salty water sloshing up over his legs but after coming out and allowing the strong coastline wind to reach him he had begun to shiver uncontrollably and Brian had insisted then that they leave.

The trio returned home to the delicious smell of roast chicken. It had always been Colin's favourite food because it reminded him greatly of home and family, especially when his mother cooked it.

"Mum it was fantastic!" Colin gushed, as excited as his younger brother who was now running around the steaming kitchen, making car noises, "You should've come. Why didn't you?"

An uneasy look spread over his mother's usually kind features at his question and he felt his father turn away from them, muttering about a phone call he had to make.

"Oh…I was busy doing work, love. I wish I could've come though, that go-kart sounds like great fun. Next time maybe," she tried to make her smile genuine but Colin was old enough to know she was lying just to please him. What worried him was why.


After diner he had promised to play Lego with Dennis and had proceeded up to their room. Not even ten minutes had gone by, however, when the familiar barks of anger reached his ears. Dennis used to question them but stopped after a while when Colin continued to tell him that all mummy's and daddy's argued. He knew that wasn't the truth but he couldn't explain what was really happening between his parents. Not when he was so unsure himself.

Colin had then taken his place on the stairs, where he sat now.

"-and all I get when I come home is your whining and nagging. It drives me insane,"

"Well maybe you shouldn't come home then!" Sophia told him, a harsh tone to her voice.

"Maybe I shouldn't," Brian echoed, "To be honest I don't know why we're doing this anymore."

"For the kids, Brian. We've already discussed this,"

"But what's the point if all Colin and Dennis hear is our shouting? They can't grow up like that, thinking it's the norm in relationships."

Colin didn't like how their voices had suddenly become quiet and hushed, as though all whispers of hope had been swept away from them. He preferred their angry cries because all that was left was pain, confusion and fear.

"What do we do then?" his mother asked, helplessly.

Brian was silent for a moment and Colin could imagine him furrowing his bushy eyebrows as he thought how to answer, "Maybe…I don't know. I've been thinking a lot lately and I maybe we should ermmm…"

"God Brian, spit it out will you!" Sophia demanded, frustrated.

"I think we should separate."

There were the words that hit him like he had been physically knocked over the head with a wooden bat. The words that he feared above everything else because he knew what they meant. His parents were going to get a divorce. This is exactly what his friend, Tommy's parents had done before splitting up – quarrelled constantly before everything had ended one night.

"I still see both mum and dad but it's just not the same as all of us living together," Tommy had explained to him, in earnest.

Colin wandered if all couples separated in the end. Maybe that's just how it is.


Both of Colin's parents had sat him and Dennis down that evening to tell them. Dennis shifted about on the burgundy material sofa in the Creevey's living room, not really understanding what was happening. He registered that his father was leaving but kept demanding to know the day he was coming home. Colin watched as his mother and father tried, desperately to tell him that he wasn't returning but that he would still see him every Sunday.

"But why?" Dennis asked.

A single tear escaped Sophia's blue-grey eyes and she wiped it away defiantly as she answered, "Because it's the best thing, Dennis, love. Mummy and Daddy don't want to live together anymore but we still want to see you and Colin."

Colin could tell his mother was working her hardest to prevent herself from breaking down in front of her children because her voice faltered slightly as she spoke. She ran a shaking hand through her long, wavy, mouse-brown hair and looked from Brian to Colin, desperately. It was this that brought Colin to his senses and he felt his eyes prickle slightly. Standing up abruptly, he beckoned for Dennis to follow him back upstairs, promising to carry on playing with him. In truth it was an excuse to leave the icily tense room.

He reached their bedroom just in time because, as the tears spilled over his cheeks, dripping onto his green cotton t-shirt he felt a strange surge of something run through his body and the next moment a glass of water on his bed side table had begun shaking violently. It gave one almighty shudder and shattered into a million pieces, spraying half the room with glass. He prayed his parents hadn't heard it.

Rather than burst into tears or run screaming from the room, Dennis merely said, "Awesome," and dropped onto the floor to continue playing with his Lego, as though glasses shattering of their own accord was a common occurrence. Perhaps it was because things like this happened to him too.

Colin didn't understand why or how he and his brother could do these things but knew that it wasn't just coincidence that caused these miracles to happen around them. Whenever he felt a strong surge of emotion like anger or fear he would cause accidents or strange, unexplainable things to occur and he had been able to do it since before he could remember. Initially he had believed he was the different one, he was the one with the strange condition. But when Dennis was about four years old Colin had walked into the garden to see a string of delicate daisies flying around his brother's head and the tiny boy chuckling appreciatively to himself. Now he had come to the conclusion that this extraordinary power was something genetic. He only hoped that one day soon he would find out what it meant.


An hour or two later, after putting Dennis to bed, he entered the kitchen to see his father standing with a box-shaped suit case and a large, lumpy back-pack.

"So I'll come back to get the rest of my stuff as soon as I can find a permanent place," he told Sophia, turning towards the door and noticing his son.

"You're going already?" Colin asked, weakly.

He nodded, regret clouding his features, "I'm sorry, Colin, I know this isn't easy for you. I mean it's all you've known, having us both around but I know you're gonna be fine and you're gonna help your mum and stuff aren't you?"

It was Colin's turn to nod, as he watched his dad wheel the suitcase through the narrow corridor and open the front door.

"Can't you just stay another night?" he queried, in desperation, "I just don't want you to go yet."

Brian left his suitcase on the topmost stone step, leading up to the house and rushed back to his son, bending to hug him, "I had a brilliant day today, honestly. Maybe I'll buy a go-kart too when I get a new home of my own, then you and Dennis can have one there. And on Tuesday, you're both coming to have tea with me. I'm staying at grandma's house for now, so I'm not far away. I'll see you soon, son. Have a good couple of days."

He kissed Colin, briefly on the forehead and continued to his car, an old silver Toyota. Colin watched his dad drive off, his mum behind him the whole time with a comforting hand on his shoulder. He waved and smiled slightly but all the while he wished his dad didn't have to go.