Carina Malfoy

The Malfoy's

All around her the wind howls like a pack of wild wolves, while it whips across her face making her stubble back blindly. Thick fog swirls around in thick dense clouds leaving the surroundings unknown to the young girl. Not even the moon that always hung faithfully in the sky nor the twinkling stars could give the girl a glimmer of light, for they had been hidden behind the ominous storm clouds that had descended down upon them.

With a cry the girl comes crashing down onto the cold damp moss that covers the ground. She had tripped on an unseen tree root of a dead skeleton tree that leered down on the girl. In desperation the young girl with a mane of silvery blonde hair squeezes her piercing grey eyes shut and covers her ears with her ice cold hands in hopes it would block out the bone chilling noises of the storm. Only when she can no longer feel the wind slapping against her body and the sharp whistle of the wind does she crack open her eyes.

Slowly she untangles herself from the ball she had curled herself into and rises slowly from the ground. The wind no longer howls like a pack of werewolves as the girl looks around hesitantly; instead it had been reduced to a dull whisper. The wind had blown way the angry storm clouds, allowing the moon and stars to shine proudly down on her. Just as the girl begins to feel herself being gently torn from this world the last of the thick fog is blown away, revealing the location of this nightmare.

A graveyard.

I feel my eyes flutter open as sunlight streams through my windows and I am pulled from my slumber.

I stretch lazily like cat before grabbing a worn down leather journal off my bed stand. I search for a quill under my pillow as the dream remains etched in my brain as clear as picture. I let out a yell of triumphant as my fingers brush against the fine silky feathers of a quill. I quickly dab the quill in some ink before beginning to scribbling furiously in my journal

I shouldn't even bother to write down my dream. The pages of my journal are filled with scribbles of the same dream. Every night since the day I returned from school I've been having the same dream over and over again. For the first couple of weeks the dream was hazy and unclear, and I would wake up with only the faintest of memory of it. As time went by the dream became clearer and clearer, so clear that I could feel the wind whip across my body like knives and feel the moist air against my skin. I no longer had to struggle to remember it; but only for a few hours. After the a few hours the dream begins to fade away and by night it is only a distant memory.

Perhaps that's why I keep writing down this strange dream, I'm afraid I won't have it one night and it'll disappear from my memory forever.

I set the quill and journal gently on the table once I am finished writing. I snuggle back under my covers, it is after all summer and what's the need to hurry out of bed?

Just as I am about to drift back to sleep, a sharp know against my door jolted me awake.

"Carina!" My mother calls as she rattles at my door. "You better be up and dressed!"

I let at a groan and throw my covers over my heard. "Why must I be awake? It's summer?"

"Yes I know it," my mother calls impatiently through the door, "but may I remind you that it is also Sunday."

That's right Sunday, the only day of the week where my family makes an effort to be a family. It's the only day of the week where all four of us eat together.

"And why is your door locked?" My mother snaps giving the door another rattle.

"Because I felt like locking it!" I yell back in annoyance.

"Well open it!"

"You're a witch, open it yourself!"

I hear my mother let out an exasperated sigh before saying, "we will be expecting you down stairs at the table in ten minutes. You'll have your father to deal with if you're not." My mother threatens.