Okays. Here is my second installment of my very fist fan fic. I know my writing isn't very good, but I hope you enjoy anyway. If there are any inaccuracies (sp?) with the Narnia Chronology or anything PLEASE let me know. I know the Pevensies didn't live in London, sorry. I'm not exactly sure what is going to happen, so bear with me and THANK YOU for the awesome reviews. Oh, and the aunt and uncle aren't heartless, I just don't want to talk about them as much as Susan.
I was falling through endless darkness. I can't say for how long, but it felt like hours. I thought of nothing, my mind was completely blank, just like the inky blackness I was falling through. I landed on cold ground. It only hurt a little so I stood slowly. I couldn't tell what I was standing on, it wasn't grass or earth. It was bitterly cold and I wrapped my arms around myself. I started walking forwards, but as I did a fierce wind started blowing. It screamed in my ears and tore into my very soul. I cowered down, trying to shield myself from the icy blasts. I cried out, but no one came to my aid. I was completely alone and shivering in the darkness that enveloped me.
"Susan!" I felt my body being shaken awake. I opened my eyes to see aunt Alberta's face very close to mine. "You fainted." She said as if she was reporting the weather.
"I did?" I asked wearily. My head was spinning and I wasn't exactly sure where I was. "I don't think I've ever fainted before. Maybe I have…Peter caught me…" I trailed off.
"Don't talk nonsense Susan." Alberta helped me up. I saw my uncle out of the corner of my eye, he looked annoyed. "What you need is some rest." My aunt put her arm around me, not in a show of comfort, but rather to pull me out of the drawing room. She started talking about how I was too warm, needed fresh air and the like, but I wasn't listening. I was thinking about the horn. My mind was slowly clearing and I was feeling more like myself. My aunt pushed me into a room and shut the door behind me. It wasn't my room.
It was my brothers' room. Light streamed in from a large window, but it did not cheer me. The light looked cruel and mocking. I inched forward, but stopped again. I wanted to leave and go to my own room, but I found that I couldn't. I continued walking forward. The room was quite tidy, considering that two boys had previously inhabited it. There were a few things that had been thrown about, and Peter's bed wasn't made. As soon as I saw that, I immediately went to it and began adjusting the bedclothes. After I had finished, I stared at it for a moment. Then I messed it back up again. I was suddenly angry at myself for touching it. It wasn't my right. It was Peter's bed. He could fix it up if he wanted to.
I turned away and started to leave again, but something caught my eye. It was a painting hanging on the wall. It was one of my sister's paintings. She had become a very accomplished artist before she died and had the skill of one who had been painting for a decade. I studied it, admiring it before I took in what it actually showed. It was a lamp post in the middle of a forest. There was snow on the ground and in the trees. It looked as cold as I felt. Around the lamp post were four persons. They were dressed in fur coats and were holding hands.
"Ridiculous," I said aloud. But it wasn't what I was thinking. I said the word again, thinking that I would make self believe it ridiculous. But I didn't. I hadn't cried for my family yet. But now it was sinking in. I would never see Edmund again. I would never tease Peter. I would never laugh with Lucy. I would never be embraced by my parents. Never again. The first tear slipped down my cheek. I walked over to Peter's bed again. I didn't feel numb anymore. I let go of my mind, my body and my heart. And I cried myself to sleep.