Jill Brooks and The Three Runes

Chapter One: Jill Brooks

Jill Brooks was, by all appearances, a typical Year 6 student at Underwood Primary. But outside the classroom, her life was anything but ordinary.

Jill lived with her mother, Claire Brooks, in a cozy but cluttered two-story house just outside the town. Her father, an architect, traveled often for work, and it had been months since she had last seen him. While her parents' absence was sometimes hard to handle, Jill had learned to navigate the balance between her school life and her responsibilities at home.

Claire worked long hours as a nurse at the local hospital, often coming home late at night, exhausted but still managing to smile at Jill's stories about her day. It was just the two of them most of the time, and Jill had grown used to cooking simple dinners and helping out around the house. But every weekend, Jill and her mom would go to the local market together. It was one of the few traditions they kept, despite their busy lives. They would buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and sometimes flowers, filling their home with the smell of lavender and basil. Jill enjoyed those moments of normalcy, where life felt predictable and safe.

At home, Jill spent her evenings reading books or doing her homework in the small study room her mother had set up for her. It was filled with books on architecture, design, and art—none of which particularly interested Jill—but it was her quiet place. It was where she could escape from the world, particularly, from school.

In her quiet moments, when she wasn't thinking about school, Jill found herself lost in thought, wondering about her father, about when he might return. His absence wasn't new, but lately, it seemed to weigh on her more. She had begun to notice the small cracks in their family life—the long silences at dinner, her mother's weary eyes, and the unanswered questions about why he was gone so often. Jill didn't resent him, not really, but she couldn't help but wish things were different. Sometimes, she wondered if that was why she focused so hard on her schoolwork, on doing everything just right—maybe, if she was perfect, if she held everything together, it would make up for the things she couldn't control.

Jill's best friend, Maria, lived in a lively household that was the polar opposite of her own. There was always noise—siblings arguing, parents chatting in the kitchen, the TV blaring in the background. Whenever Jill visited Maria's house, it was a stark contrast to her quiet, orderly home. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the chaos, but sometimes it made her feel out of place, like she didn't belong in that whirlwind of energy. Still, Maria's family always made her feel welcome, even if Jill never fully let herself relax there.

At home, as the summer before Year 6 came to a close, Jill tried to push the thoughts of school aside. She spent her days reading in the garden or sketching in her little study. She enjoyed the quiet moments, but there was an underlying restlessness in her lately, as though something important was just out of reach. Maybe it was the thought of her dad, who had been gone on another trip for weeks now, or maybe it was the way her mother seemed more tired than usual, her smiles thinner, her silences longer. Despite this, Jill had grown accustomed to handling things on her own. She rarely complained to her mother, especially about school. She knew Claire had enough on her plate, so Jill kept her worries to herself. But as the first day of Year 6 approached, those worries started to feel heavier.

"Are you excited for Year 6?" her mother had asked one evening, sitting at the kitchen table after a long shift. Jill had been chopping vegetables for dinner, the rhythmic sound of the knife against the cutting board the only noise in the room.

"I guess so," Jill had replied, noncommittally. "It's just school."

Claire had smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's more than just school, honey. It's your last year before secondary. That's a big deal."

"Yeah, I guess," Jill had said, not wanting to delve into the thoughts swirling in her head. She didn't want to tell her mom that the idea of Miss Nettleberry's class filled her with unease or that the pressure of doing well felt suffocating. So, instead, she focused on dinner, the conversation fading into the background.

As the final days of summer slipped away, Jill found herself thinking more and more about what was to come. She wondered what Year 6 would be like—if the rumors were true, if Miss Nettleberry was as strict as everyone said. She wondered if her father would be home before the first day of school or if he'd miss it, like he had missed so many other things. And she wondered if she could handle it all—the pressure, the expectations, the loneliness.

But for now, she pushed those thoughts aside. Tomorrow would come, and with it, a new school year, a new teacher. Until then, Jill focused on the simple things—like finishing her summer reading and preparing for what felt like the beginning of something bigger than just another school year.