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Chapter 3
The early morning rays crept in through the window to wake me. The sky had cleared up while the only sight hinting that it rained were pearls of water everywhere. It was a tranquil day to say the least. I awoke with a start to the awful racket of an engine blaring. I stretched quickly and let a muffled yawn escape before getting up and heading to my window. If I hadn't known better the vehicle outside was the exact image of an armed forces modified city hummer. It's engine continued roaring as I walked downstairs to satisfy my curiosity. Yet even the slightest glance settled my hunger for knowledge, it was even one of those rare moments where I was speechless. In front of me stood a tall, black hared oriental man, full clad in the strict military uniform. His hands were tucked away in his pockets and over his shoulder hung an olive dufflebag. All those years of contempt stopped me from crying out. All I could do was continue down the stairs until I stood right in front of him. He looked down at me with his deep dark eyes. Shadows hung under them and he looked extremely tired. "San," he whispered. I lifted my head to meet his gaze, but I didn't return his happiness. "You," I told him. "What are you doing here?" I continued. He looked a bit confused. "San, I'm back, I've missed you all too much. I couldn't take it there anymore, so I returned." He explained. "Go back," I retorted, "I don't want you here! Go back and don't think you can just return anytime you feel like it!"
I ran back upstairs and shut the door as my mother came by. I plugged in my music and jacked up the volume until it outrang the noise of the vehicle. Then I sat down on the floor and began to rock back and forth in a state of confusion and shock. I reached over to my closet and picked up my book, picked through a few pages until I found the one I most commonly indulged in. Just as the memories began I noticed something out of place. Funny that I hadn't seen it before. It was letter with my name on it, written in some cursive writing. I let out a long deep breath to ease my frustration and ripped open the side. I pulled out two pieces of odd paper and began to read it.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. Of Wizards)
I stared at the letter in disbelief for a few moments, then read on.
Dear Ms. Zhao,
We are please to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
And so it went on...
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"What a load of bullshit," I exclaimed, ripping the letter up before giving any second thought to it. I disregarded it as the remainder fell to the floor and then lay down onto my bed. These were the sort of situations I had problems handling. The kind of moments where emotions took over any other thought. One of those times when you had next to no control over yourself. It was kind of like that time when I was small, in the odd shop where the bleach blond boy was rejected from his father's love. It sent such a wave of compassion over me that I had to resist going up and comforting the boy. Funny that a memory like that reached my conscious mind on a day like this. I was the one who needed compassion, someone to turn to. All in all I just needed a change. I lay there motionless, aware of any noise around me. Someone was coming up the stairs and they sounded quite exhausted.
The door began to open as my father walked in. He looked sad, ashamed even as he walked over to me. "Sang Me, I'm sorry." He began. I knew he was going to come up with more excuses, so I zoned out. I nodded every time it seemed necessary but paid no attention to him. Eventually he pulled out his credit card. "Let's get you something really nice for the next school year." He said, waving the key to more time at private school before my face. I nodded again and turned away. Did he honestly think he could make me accept him by bribing me? That might have worked with someone who has no other purpose in life, but money is not everything to me. I closed my eyes and before I new it sleep washed over me, brought on by all the stress of today.
It wasn't much of a rest though. I kept tossing and turning without a
reason, it was just an instinct. Then, early the next day, I awoke fully to the
sound of and unwanted life form in my room. I opened my eyes carefully to see
what it was. Not quit comprehending I blinked a few more times. At the edge of
my bed (unless my sanity had totally left me) stood and owl, talons digging
into the smooth wood. In its beak it carried a letter. Carefully I crawled over
and extracted the letter. It was identical to the last one I had gotten, right
down to the cursive lettering. After shooting another glance to the patient owl
I got up and went downstairs. I pulled out a small custard cup filled it with
water and carefully carried it back up. I placed it on my desk and beckoned the
creature over with a gesture of my hand. Cautiously it nipped at the water. I
returned to my bed and opened my mail. It was one and the same as the one I had
received before. This time I didn't immediately rip it up though. I poured over
it again and again and actually gave consideration to the possibility of such a
school. If it was possible for me to make things happen with the simple aid of
a book, theoretically there should be a school for it. A school for freaks, since
they have schools for everything else, besides, I had nothing to lose. I went
over to my desk again and started rummaging through the drawers for a pen and
paper. After I had found the aforementioned I began to write
Dear Madam MacGonagall,
I have recently received a letter inviting me to attend Hogwarts School of
Witchcraft and Wizardry. I haven't heard anything about this school so I am a
little skeptical of its existence. Where would it be located and how could I
get there? I have also read over the list of supplies and am curious to know
where I can find cauldrons or wands.
Then there is the problem of payment. I am not in the proper situation
to be able to afford boarding school. If you can find the time to respond I
would greatly appreciate some answers.
Sincerely,
Sang Me Zhao 罪过
I read over it once more to make sure my spelling was all right. (English has never been my best subject even though its my native language. I might be partially Asian but my father never took the time to teach me) Whoever was going to get this letter would get a kick out of how gullible I am. I looked over the envelope only to find that the sender hadn't left a returning address. This was quite a bit of a throwback since my curiosity had a strong hold on me and I wanted to know more about this school. Realization dawned in me as I looked over to the owl. The bird had to get home so why not give it the letter? "Gods," I thought, "I'm turning into a freaking hypocrite. I shouldn't go along with cheap jokes like this," Yet something inside me urged me to go on. I rolled up the paper and tied it to the leg of the creature with some twine. I saw it over to the window and let it out. With a loud whoosh it flew off into the sky. Now all I could do was wait . . .
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r & r and there will be more