Secret Wings [Remus Lupin]

Chapter 4: The Little Things

Disclaimer: I own only what I created all other credit goes to the awesome JK Rowling!

Chapter 4: The Little Things

I stumbled into the disgusting living room, which I decided to call The Liar. The only difference in it was that my dad was awake and standing in the middle of the room, staring at me. I swallowed. This was not going to end well.

"Where have you been?!" he asked angrily, glaring at me with cold eyes.

I felt fear pumping through my veins and I focused on putting up my walls. "I w-was at t-the store g-getting food. "
I didn't want him to know where I really went he would probably stop me from going to Hogwarts.

"Where's it at, then?"

Great going Stella. That excuse just backfired in your face, I thought.

"Ummmmm." Was all all that came out of my mouth. I shuffled my feet nervously.

"You lie to me girl! You worthless price of trash!" He yelled, I flinched at his words. "Where do you really go?"

"I went to Diagon Ally." I whispered quietly, looking at the floor. What happened to the dad that took me to the park, and swung me on the swing? The dad that gave me piggy-back rides around the house?

"Speak up, girl!" I stumbled as he slapped my face. I felt anger bubbled through the stinging pain.

"I went to Diagon Ally, to get my school supplies for Hogwarts!" I yelled at him, which wasn't a good idea on my part.

"Do not speak to me in that tone of voice, brat!" he spat and grabbed me by the hair and threw me down. I felt my arm make sickening noise as I landed on it, it was probably broken. "And you are not going to that bloody school! I made sure of that, I already signed you up for Beauxbatons Academy for Magic!" he sneered, and kicked me in the back.

I groaned in pain, not just from the kick, but from my hopes crumbling down.

Hogwarts.

My escape.

It was ripped out of my hands.

Just. Like. That.

I cried and cried. Hot tears raced down my face, while my father beat me once again. He kicked me in the stomach, knocking the breath out of me. I stood up with the little strength I had left and stumbled into the kitchen, my eyesight hazy with pain. But then he grabbed me from behind and threw me, so I landed against my mum's fine china cabinet. The fancy dishes fell out on me, giving me cuts and scraps.

I prayed for blackness to claim me soon. I didn't want to feel anything, I wanted the comforting numbness.

Father stormed over to me and said. "You were an accident. You shouldn't even exist, you're just a worthless brat that nobody cares about. Your mother is dead now because of you." He kicked me in the stomach again. I gasped for air as he rained down blows on me.

I could see blood on the floor. My blood. It was scarlet red. Like the sunsets that me and mum used to watch, side by side on the porch.

I felt the blackness creeping in on my vision. Thank god. The blows stopped and I heard my father crying. He missed mum just as much as me.

"I'm sorry, mum." I wish whispered to myself. "I'm sorry, I couldn't have been a better daughter."

My dad's sobs increased in volume. I no longer felt the pain of my wounds. I just felt the loss of my mum and pity for my broken father. A lone tear fell down my cheek.