Mary Smith and The Three-Headed Dog

3. Doodle

"Hell? I mean Hell is only relative I suppose. Despite what the teachings of some Muggle religions will have you believe, there isn't a Heaven and a Hell. There's just this world and the beyond. Though I do believe those darker souls tend to, well, congregate. Muggle religions are just silly fables that give their mundane lives a bit of meaning. Surely you don't buy into any of that, do you Mary?"

--- Professor Horace Slughorn

Chapter 3: Doodle

I prayed to God that night. By the time school rolled around the next day, I felt a lot better. I went through the lessons smiling even though I knew my entire class hated me. They all thought that I had intentionally not invited them to my birthday party yesterday. Jacky had even gone so far as to walk up the stairs by herself. I felt a little bad for a while but now I could care less. At some point today, someone was coming to pick me up. The letter said so. Instead of packing my school books, I stuffed my back pack with all the clothes I could fit, my letter so I could have some proof it was me, and a pencil and a sheet of paper for class in case they waited until after school to come get me. An adult would think to do something like that.

That pretty owl was following me again, now more obviously than usual. I like him, or her, I couldn't tell which. I decided to name him Tiberius. He was the closest thing I ever had to a pet.

I hope its a boy or else that would be a weird name...

I doodled on the paper in between trying to take notes. I was bored and trying to pass the time. One was a giant eyeball, but it was ugly so I scribbled on it. I started out drawing Santa, but I accidently made him too skinny so I stopped. Then I drew lightening like I'd seen last week out over the hills. And a skinny dog, and a snake fighting a mongoose (Jacky told me they were natural born enemies) and a few more meaningless things. A necklace, a stick figure of me drinking out of a king cup (because I could make one now that I was a witch), rings and coins, and a big sword to kill Jubilee's cat with.

I never took my back pack off, not even for lunch. Instead, I sat through the other kids making fun of me, screaming "I don't want to go to hell" loud enough for the whole cafeteria to hear. Jubilee wasn't there to egg them on today. She hadn't been on the bus either. I don't even know how they found out about that, but I don't care. I wasn't staying here.

Hours passed and still I waited.

School let out and still I waited.

The sun went down, and I'd finally given up waiting. Instead I was dressed in my pajamas, sitting in the den so I could think. What had I done? Why didn't they come to get me? Was I really that horrible that they didn't want me either. Like my birth parents. Maybe my mother really did throw me in the trash. Maybe this whole thing was a joke or a test of my faith in God, and I'd failed. I love God, but I failed horribly. I know witches go to hell, but I wanted to be one of them. I packed in secret. I read the letter when I knew Mama would have forbid it. I'm disobeying them right now just by being here in the den. I'm supposed to be tucked in bed, but instead I'm sitting here while my parents sleep upstairs.

"Why doesn't anyone want me?" Was I that horrible? Oh, who was I kidding. I was that horrible. I'm not pretty or smart or talented. I never pay attention in lessons and destroyed our last house. The only good thing I can say is that I'm obedient. A dog can be obedient.

I felt a breeze roll in from the empty fireplace. It moved against my cheeks and pushed up the bangs of my hair. Wind doesn't come from the fireplace though. I leaned forward onto my hands and knees and looked closer. There amongst the ashes and charred logs was a small green flame. "What?" I muttered to myself. That small flame flickered until, like a flash, it became so much more.

It twisted like a spiraling curtain of silk, growing larger until it filled the space and casted a glow on my horrified face. I jerked away from the fire, scooting back on my butt until my back bumped into the couch. I wanted to cry out for my father. For my mother. God had come to judge me. I was going to damnation in a blaze of green hellfire.

Something was forming in it. A pale hand reached like an eerie claw. Dark eyes shining and flying purple hair greeted me. "Mary," it's voice rippled over to me while it stood in all its cloaked glory, unmarred by burns and ready to drag me to the afterlife. I did what any ten- sorry, right. Eleven year old would do.

I screamed like mad and ran.