Chapter 8 – The Letter
Lizzie did her best to stay out of everyone's way as the days ticked on. Dudley caught her crying in the bathroom one morning after the checklist came from St. Catherine's Correctional Academy.
"I know someone with a sister there, I hear they cut your hair short and soap everyone's mouth before every meal," he said. She couldn't tell if he was rubbing it in or actually sounding apologetic.
"I doubt that, far too much effort on their part," she grumbled.
"Well, I'm sure it can be requested in that paperwork dad's filling out," Dudley added.
"Shut up, Dudley. Leave me alone," she breathed.
"You'll actually get a room though. That's a plus, right? It'll be shared with at least a dozen others, but that's still an upgrade," he added, this time an intentional jab.
"Get out!" She yelled.
"Dad! Lizzies in the bathroom!" He yelled.
"God, you're a bloody shit head you know that?" She hissed reproachfully.
Vernon came up a minute later, told Dudley to go play with a fatherly affectionate squeeze on the back of his neck. Vernon crouched down in front of Lizzie and considered her face for a moment.
"What's wrong?" He asked sharply. Lizzie shook her head.
"Then what are you doing up here?" He asked. Lizzie wiped her face dry and sniffed, but looked down at her feet unsure of what to say. He picked up her chin in a firm grip with his thumb and looked at her, her eyes wandered anywhere but his but were obviously red and swollen.
His grip released and his hand held the side of her face softly which gave her bigger chills than a slap would have. She wished she could tell what he was thinking. Something in her wanted to believe he felt slightly bad for her, maybe thought he was too harsh. But that faded quickly. He ordered her back downstairs to help Petunia, but lingered in the bathroom rubbing the back of his neck in contemplation about something.
The following morning, Vernon signed the paperwork needed for corporal punishment, she got a class list that consisted of Bible study, a period dedicated strictly to writing lines, remedial subject matter which Lizzie scoffed at because she was good at most subjects, domestic arts which she loathed, and restitution.
"Why is there a class for restitution?" She asked.
"Well, it's not a class, it's a group confession setting, followed by some assigned penance," Vernon explained with an annoyed undertone not looking up from his newspaper.
"Azalea, take these down to drop in the outgoing mail, and bring the mail in on your way back. Petunia ordered your uniforms, hope they're here soon because they'll probably need to be fitted. They're strict at St. Catherine's about the fitting," he explained, and handed her the paperwork he filled out that was being returned to the school.
On her way down to the post, she saw the envelope he gave her wasn't sealed even though she swore she saw him seal it before he handed it to her.
She pulled the contents out and flipped through the papers.
Name -
Azalea Lily Potter
Birth Date -
July 31, 1980
Parent Names -
James F. Potter (Deceased)
Lily J. Potter (Deceased)
Adopted or Biological Child -
Neither
Legal Guardian (if different from above) -
Vernon Dursley
Physical Description -
4' 9" tall (approx)
5 stones (approx)
Red Hair (wavy)
Green Eyes
Fair Complexion
Light Freckles
Corporal Punishment -
Any means pre-authorized and signed
Behavioral Therapy -
Any means pre-authorized and signed
Psychiatric Disorders -
Bipolar at a minimum, hallucination prone, paranoia, compulsive liar, erradic
Only thing worse than a self-diagnosis is a Vernon diagnosis, she thought cynically.
Behavioral Notes -
Suicidal, substance abuser, poor sleeper, detachment tendencies, irrational fear complexes, eating disorder, no friends
Physical disabilities or conditions -
None known
Allergies -
None known
Skills -
None known
"You're an asshole," she whispered to herself.
Trauma History - he added a page to this she read through with curiosity.
Witnessed a suicide earlier this year. Witnessed a heart attack induced death earlier this year. Suspected possession, attempted exorcism last year, has improved some but not enough. Orphaned in 1983. Parents murdered in their home, witnessed but no memory. This has been concealed for her protection. Automobile accident is the official recount.
Lizzie froze and nearly dropped the papers. She knew better than to ask him or admit she read these, unless she wanted to actually be lit on fire. But why on earth were they murdered? She thought. Why are they lying? It didn't surprise her that they were lying, she was more perplexed at whatever reason they had to do so.
Lizzie sealed the envelope and dropped it off, she asked the man if there were any parcels, and was handed what she knew to be the uniforms for St. Catherine's. He winced when he gave them to her, anything coming from this particular institution had a bad reputation.
Lizzie walked back still deep in thought and agitated by not having any means to find out what actually happened.
She picked up the mail by the door and walked back inside. She stopped again in her tracks when she saw a letter with an old-fashioned wax seal in the mix that had her name on the front.
'Azalea Lily Potter
Cupboard Under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging, Surrey'
Lizzie pulled it from the stack and tucked it under her arm in awe, then handed the rest to Vernon and the parcel to Petunia who opened it immediately and groaned.
"These are the smallest they had and will still fit you like elephant skin," Petunia scoffed.
"Whose fault is that?" Lizzie mumbled under her breath.
"Excuse me?" Vernon snapped harshly. His eyes flashed mean.
"My fault," Lizzie whispered automatically.
"Watch your tongue," he spat and went back to reading.
"Lizzie, go put these on so I can pin them," Petunia ordered.
Lizzie had turned away to try to open the letter addressed to her, she was pulling it free from the envelope when Dudley snatched it.
"Give it back! That's mine!" Lizzie yelled childishly.
Vernon looked at her sharply and then took the letter from Dudley. His eyes widened and Petunia looked over his shoulder. Hers widened even larger and Lizzie swallowed back a twinge of fear.
Vernon stood up clutching the letter tight and rubbed his forehead. "Get out, both of you," he said sharply. Dudley was stunned by his demeanor.
"But dad..." he said.
"Out!" He barked. Lizzie stood still.
"I can't read it?" She asked timidly.
"OUT, AZALEA! Before I strap you for trying!" He roared and she left room in a hurry, but still tried to listen at the door.
"I wouldn't do that," Dudley warned.
"Shut up," Lizzie whispered. She could faintly hear them arguing.
"This is the place, is it not?" Vernon asked Petunia.
"We refused, we stamped it out, they don't realize that?" He asked.
"I don't know," Petunia whispered.
"Do we respond with a no?" She asked.
"No... no we don't respond at all," he said, he sounded frightened.
"I think they might be watching the house," Petunia said fearfully. They whispered about something else she couldn't make out.
Lizzie quietly crawled into the cupboard when she heard footsteps a few moments later and closed the door quietly. It opened and Vernon crouched down outside of it.
"I'm sorry," Lizzie whispered automatically.
He held up his hand. "You're not in trouble, but be quiet," he said shortly. His calmness made her uneasy.
"Listen, you're a little big for this aren't you?" He asked, pointing to the cupboard. She nodded.
"We're going to move your stuff up to Dudley's second bedroom..." he said reluctantly.
"This isn't an award for anything. You'll be off to school soon anyway. Cross me in the meantime and you'll be sorry," he warned and gestured for her to get her things. Dudley was furious, which was satisfying to Lizzie. The space in the room was nice, easy to breathe, but she would have traded it to know what was in the letter. That and the paperwork she read through kept her mind rolling relentlessly. It was enough to drive her mad.
Petunia fitted the uniforms which were hideous. She was allowed white undergarments, black closed toed shoes, wool tights for the winter, knee-high socks for the warm months, hair worn in a bun and off the face, or cut at the jaw line for disobedience. The colors were gray and yellow.
Vernon came in before he turned in for bed, Lizzie was up knotting socks just to keep her hands busy while she thought tirelessly about everything.
He looked out the window as though someone were watching and drew the curtains.
"Curtains stay closed," he said.
"Don't touch Dudley's things, and don't leave the room at night, if you do, I'll lock the door," he added. Lizzie nodded. He looked at her with extreme consideration for a moment. It made her insides churn a little.
"Can I ask you something?" She whispered. He just stared back frowning.
"Was I hurt in the accident?" She asked.
He narrowed his eyes and gave her a curious look. "Bad head trauma," he said.
"Was it their fault?" She asked.
"Your dad was drunk," he spat cynically. "Better off without them, Azalea. Young, drunk, irresponsible, and foolish," he added. She found this hard to believe but didn't pry.
He lingered in the room noticeably contemplating something. He seemed agitated and she didn't want to poke the bear by asking him why he was there.
She slipped under the covers and pretended to roll over and sleep. His presence was alarming but he just sat there staring. Eventually she heard the door click closed and finally exhaled the breath she'd been holding for a short eternity.
'Dear God. I want to fly away, bird literally any bird, please turn me into a bird... all I ask, amen,' she whispered to herself.
'Ok sorry, not any bird, not a penguin or a flamingo. But a pigeon would be fine... a mosquito would probably be fine too... Just something with working wings,' she corrected.
'Why are they gone? Why did you take them away? Who did it? I just want to know,' she added under her breath.
'If you can't make me a bird, could you call me home? I don't care how... I can't do this anymore,' she added moments later and hugged the blanket tight. She only half drifted off to sleep with racing dreams of letters and blinding green lights.