Susan Pevensie stepped down her front porch steps so quickly that she almost tripped over her own high-heeled feet. She regained her balance and made her way down the sidewalk.
I mustn't be late, she told herself. I mustn't be late.
She was so preoccupied with getting to Darlene Shalhold's party that she accidentally bumped into Colin, the eight-year-old paperboy.
"Hello, Miss Pevensie!" Colin greeted, tipping his hat in salute.
Susan merely nodded her head, irritated. "Hello, Colin."
"Say, do you want a paper? I've got loads here," he hinted hopefully.
Susan shook her head. "No, thank you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a party to attend."
"Why aren't you taking a cab, then?"
"It's just down the street."
"Oh." He looked at the paper in his hand. "Are you sure you don't want one?" he asked.
"Positive. Good day," she said, and promptly walked past him.
Colin simply shrugged. "Suit yourself." He unrolled the paper and began to read it.
Susan had only gotten about eight feet when Colin shouted, "Say, ain't your last name 'Pevensie'?"
She sighed and practically speed-walked to him. "Yes. Why?"
He handed her the paper, which she promptly took. "You've been screwed over today, ma'am. I'm truly sorry for your loss." He walked away.
TRAIN EXPLODES AT LONDON RAILWAY
NINE KILLED; SEVERAL OTHERS INJURED
At 3:30 on Friday, September 24, Train 23b came into the Finchley London Train Station. The train, unfortunately, was running faster than usual, and upon turning into the station, exploded due to engine failure and broken brakes. The explosion killed Peter, Edmund, Lucy, Helen, and George Pevensie, Eustace Scrubb, Jillian Pole, Polly Plummer, and Digory Kirk.
Susan stared at the article in shock and disbelief. It couldn't be. Her family was...dead?
A single tear rolled down Susan's cheek and hit the newspaper that she held in her shaking hands. She shut her eyes tightly, crying silently. She shook with sobs as she realized the horrible, sad truth. Her family, her entire family, was dead.
She was alone.
All alone.
Peter, Edmund, Lucy...everyone. Why? Why her?
Why did she have to suffer?
Memories of their childhood together suddenly flooded her mind. She remembered it, plain as day.
The..the wardrobe...and...and the Beavers, and snow...and...and a witch? A White Witch, Susan remembered.
It had seemed so real. It had all seemed so real. Narnia.
Susan shook her head sadly and walked back to her home, trudging regretfully up the steps. SHe wished that they'd never set foot in that stupid wardrobe. Then they wouldn't have played that stupid game...and they wouldn't believe that Narnia was real.
She'd still have her family.
She wished whole-heartedly that she could take it all back. The rejected invitations, the comments she'd made.
She collapsed onto the sofa and closed her eyes. When she did this, the memories grew stronger.
He's a beaver, he should be saying anything!
She thinks she's found a magical land...in the upstairs wardrobe.
I think we did.
Stop it!
Why didn't I see him?
I can't believe that you still believe in that stupid place. It's fiction.
Susan sat up, startled. She hadn't given that particular memory much thought.
It had happened yesterday...
Susan was putting on her makeup when she heard a knock at the door. She opened it up to see Edmund.
"Would you like to come and talk about Narnia at the Professor's house?" he asked.
Susan frowned and put her hands on her hips. "I can't believe that you still believe in that stupid place. It's fiction."
Edmund stared at her defiantly. "I can't believe that you don't remember!"
"Remember what? There's nothing to remember!"
"Shut up. Are you coming or not?" he growled.
"No, I am not. It's a waste of my time, and yours, too. I should have thought that you, Edmund, out of all of us, would have discouraged this nonsense back when we were children."
"I already made that mistake once. I don't fancy making it again."
Susan rolled her eyes and made to shut the door in his face. Edmund held the door open with his hand.
"I'll prove it to you. Just you wait and see."
"Go right ahead. Play your silly games, but leave me out of it."
Edmund let go of the door, and Susan slammed it shut.
How she regretted that day.
She laid back down again and kicked off her heels. She tried to get some rest, but the voices in her head became louder.
Impossible!
Oh, shut up.
What horn?
Why wouldn't he stop?
We never would have worked, anyway.
She sighed and rubbed her eyes. How on Earth...
Another, much more powerful memory hit her.
To the radiant southern sun, I give you Queen Susan the Gentle.
She sat up again. She...
She remembered.
The wardrobe...Aslan, Narnia, Jadis...Mr. Tumnus...the Beavers...
Susan broke down in tears as she buried her face in a pillow. She realized that she never should have turned her back on her family. They'd been trying to help her. All this time...
All this time, they'd been telling the truth. At least they hadn't died for nothing. Kind of.
Susan sighed and got up off of the sofa. She undressed and slipped into her everyday clothes.
"I need a drink," she muttered.
She cleaned up and walked out the door.
Don't know when I'm gonna update this...oh well! :D
