Aria's Cat
when all you want in the world is a cat, and you don't know where to find it
The room was empty except for a piano. The golden sunlight filtered into the room, making the scrubbed wood appear otherworldly, like a lost song. There was something-and Aria couldn't put her finger on it-that made it seem like a place she'd been before. She sat down at the piano and traced the ebony keys with her fingers. She had never taken lessons but somehow Aria was slowly easing music out of the old instrument. The song filled all her senses, like a ghost she had finally found.
Aria opened her eyes. It was 6 o'clock in the morning. Groaning slightly, she rolled over and pulled her blankets up. She squeezed her eyes back shut, trying to remember the shards her dream was now in. But all she could remember was that feeling. Warm....but frightening at the same time.
Aria stared up at the ceiling, yawning. Her trunk was packed in the corner. Her room looked bare without her posters. White and cold. She got up, her feet freezing. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants--she'd change on the train.
"Hey, Cat," she said softly, looking down as her pet cat squeezed through the door. She double checked her drawers to make sure she hadn't left anything--Aria liked to double check--and looked in the mirror. She pulled a face. Her hair was brown, and she thought, mousy. Freckled, with pale green eyes, Aria never found beauty within herself. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.
The floor really was cold.
Her father was in the kitchen. "Morning, dear," he said vaguely. Behind him a bowl of porridge was bubbling over, his wand placed haphazardly on the edge. Aria knew her father's mindless behavious well enough. She only smiled wryly and sat at the table; she knew what to do.
"Morning. Can you help me get my trunk, it's upstairs," Aria said. Her father wasn't listening. He was looking through his pockets. "Do you know where your 9 3/4 ticket is?"
"No, I gave it to you," Aria said. She wrinkled her nose. "I'll just make myself some toast, right?"
"Right then, I'll just--oh no!" He had noticed the porridge and was trying to retrieve his wand from the mess.
Aria smiled to herself. She stood up and loftily began to walk up the stairs. "I'm bringing Cat with me to Hogwarts," she said evenly.
"Yes, yes, dear, whatever--OW!"
Her father must not have heard her properly--and Aria knew it--he loved Cat. Aria always knew how to get what she wanted.
when all you want in the world is a cat, and you don't know where to find it
The room was empty except for a piano. The golden sunlight filtered into the room, making the scrubbed wood appear otherworldly, like a lost song. There was something-and Aria couldn't put her finger on it-that made it seem like a place she'd been before. She sat down at the piano and traced the ebony keys with her fingers. She had never taken lessons but somehow Aria was slowly easing music out of the old instrument. The song filled all her senses, like a ghost she had finally found.
Aria opened her eyes. It was 6 o'clock in the morning. Groaning slightly, she rolled over and pulled her blankets up. She squeezed her eyes back shut, trying to remember the shards her dream was now in. But all she could remember was that feeling. Warm....but frightening at the same time.
Aria stared up at the ceiling, yawning. Her trunk was packed in the corner. Her room looked bare without her posters. White and cold. She got up, her feet freezing. She pulled on a pair of sweatpants--she'd change on the train.
"Hey, Cat," she said softly, looking down as her pet cat squeezed through the door. She double checked her drawers to make sure she hadn't left anything--Aria liked to double check--and looked in the mirror. She pulled a face. Her hair was brown, and she thought, mousy. Freckled, with pale green eyes, Aria never found beauty within herself. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail.
The floor really was cold.
Her father was in the kitchen. "Morning, dear," he said vaguely. Behind him a bowl of porridge was bubbling over, his wand placed haphazardly on the edge. Aria knew her father's mindless behavious well enough. She only smiled wryly and sat at the table; she knew what to do.
"Morning. Can you help me get my trunk, it's upstairs," Aria said. Her father wasn't listening. He was looking through his pockets. "Do you know where your 9 3/4 ticket is?"
"No, I gave it to you," Aria said. She wrinkled her nose. "I'll just make myself some toast, right?"
"Right then, I'll just--oh no!" He had noticed the porridge and was trying to retrieve his wand from the mess.
Aria smiled to herself. She stood up and loftily began to walk up the stairs. "I'm bringing Cat with me to Hogwarts," she said evenly.
"Yes, yes, dear, whatever--OW!"
Her father must not have heard her properly--and Aria knew it--he loved Cat. Aria always knew how to get what she wanted.