Darn those evil, evil plot bunnies. They kill! *Clutches head in hands* Some of you asked me what it feels like when the evil plot bunnies take over you. Really, I don't know, but I can tell you this: they make you write. It's like they say the words in your brain and you just think about it and write it down, it is like they have control over you. They will come to you too and tell knock-knock jokes when you are trying to sleep and remind you of the plot until to give up and start writing. I hope.
Summary: This isn't fair. I had my perfect life. So why bring me to a magical world? Harry Potter series are fake. They're books! Wait. If I know what happens, wouldn't I have the advantage?
I yawned and slammed the thick book shut, hissing as my finger glided over the sharp paper and earned a red, stinging cut. I rummaged through my desk drawer to find some band-aids, but no, I had to be so disorganized that I myself, which the room belonged to, couldn't find one, single band-aid. Sighing, I gave up, bringing my forefinger to my lips and sucking on it. I turned off the lamp light with my other hand, managing to get it caught at the loopy curtains of the lamp and burn myself. Cursing, I ran to the bathroom and turned the cold water. I don't feel any- Ahh!
Hot, white hot water cascaded on my hand, worsening it. A tear leaked itself out of my eye and I wiped it away. Hissing in discomfort, I stopped the water flow quickly and turned on the cold, icy water, sighing in contentment as it did so.
A bang. A crash. Harsh screams and more breaking sounds.
Gasping, I turned off the bathroom light and, still trembling in fear, wondered if her father was drunk again. But no, it was worse. I walked with light but tip-toeing feet to the railing of my two-story house I shared with my parents.
No. It can't be.
They were masked, all of them. They weren't just plain muggers or robbers, just holding a stick. I recoiled in shock. I leaned in just in time to see a masked one with long, platinum hair shout the worst and remembering word I could ever hear in my life.
"Avada Kedavra!" he cursed my parents as they fell down, their embrace still in contact, their once warm and full of life eyes dead, just gone, never to return. I gasped. Then I realized my mistake.
Whee! Please review and tell me what you think!