"Jupiter was supposed to be a star, but failed..."
In 1943, Aurora just wanted to get through her fifth year without being noticed. That was, until, she attracted the attention and inevitable obsession of an older, enigmatic student called Tom. In t...
'The life of the dead is placed in the memory of the living.'
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October 1943
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'Happy birthday!'
She withdrew from her reverie, distracted from yet another whimsical daydream she sought much solace within.
It was her sixteenth birthday, the morning of a highly-anticipated All-Hallows-Eve, and yet she was barely present. Mentally, she was somewhere far-off, living a life fabricated in the fortress of her imagination.
Aurora forced a meek, mirthless smile around the common-room at all her exuberant Ravenclaw friends and classmates. She then extinguished the candles on the cake with one large breath, and once the primary attention was once again diverted elsewhere, she retreated back into herself.
She was born on Halloween night, after all, as if predestined for a macabre darkness.
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November 1943
WHEN AURORA discovered she could draw things to life as a child, she didn't dare tell a soul about her peculiar yet glorious gift.
A gift – because her imagination was as wavering as the ocean. She could breathe life to stunning landscapes that once only existed in the fortresses of her mind. She inhabited a world far more richer and complex than anyone could begin to conjecture; far more potent and beautiful than anything painted onto a canvas or written onto parchment. Her nimble fingers would dance across the paper, giving form to vivid worlds and fantastical creatures that leap off the page into reality. When she concentrated, a soft glow envelops her, and the air is filled with the faint hum of enchantment.
Thoughts were her kaleidoscope, not paint nor ink.
A curse – because, more often than not, she resuscitated the mere fascimile of a memory.
Memory is the mother of all wisdom, but it is the heart of all suffering for those who grieve things that only exist in a string of bittersweet recollections.
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