Fighting The End Of The World With A Broomstick

Where It Starts (pov change to past)

Ch.01

Okay so let's go back to where this all started...

........

It's been a week since my older brother passed...

I had gone to his funeral, I didn't truly know him well. He was my brother. He had whitish hair.

I think he dyed it. White hair like his couldn't be natural, neither mother nor father had white hair, and having all white hair was not usually found without having some disability it wasn't normal....

....

For some reason... none of this feels normal...

Anyway, that's about as much as I remember of him. He was never around, he was always at mother's and father's work, I don't know what they did there. Maybe he went to help with some sciencey thing that I wouldn't understand

I remember hearing my mother sob, it was weird seeing her cry for the first time. Seeing such a usually emotionless woman cry was strange.

My father was...

well, he was at work...

Damn workaholic. Can't call off your stupid job once for your dead son?

"Muna, come here darling" Mother had Sniffled out

'Why does she need me? Is she planning something? Who am I kidding' I had thought 'After 15 years I should know, she's always planning something...'

"Muna. come." she had sounded more stern "This is important, come here."

I walk towards her hesitantly

"Good.." Mother said her voice softening "You are meant for something Muna, I can feel it. Be what your brother couldn't be."

I couldn't shake off the suspicious tone in Mother's voice. It felt like there was something she wasn't telling me, and it left me feeling uneasy.

"What did you mean by that, mother?"

"Nothing, dear," Mother replied with a reassuring smile. "I just meant that you have great potential, and I know you'll make the most of it. Don't worry too much about it."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

After the emotional day, we finally headed home in Mother's car. I stared out of the window, watching the buildings and streets pass by in a blur.

My mind kept wandering back to the cryptic conversation with Mother. I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something she wasn't telling me, something important about my brother and his untimely passing.

As we drove through the familiar streets, I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease lingering in the air. It was a long and quiet drive back home, with so much left unsaid.