THE SORTING

THE LEAVING

The door opened before any of us found the courage or the strength to open it.

He barged in, without being invited, might I add. He strolled in like he owned the place, and frankly, it annoyed me. It annoyed me that he thought he was so high and mighty, and it annoyed me that he thought he could just walk back into my life after leaving me like that. Why did he leave?

My parents stood before I did. I am not sure if they recognized him from the sorting or if they could sense the power radiating off of him, but either way, they bowed their heads out of respect and moved out of the way so he had better access or me. Thanks mother and father. I stayed on the floor, keeping my eyes down. I took my glasses off and cleaned them, using my tears to wipe the finger smudges away. I couldn't look at him. I knew as soon as I did, I was acknowledging my fate. A fate I had on control over.

He acknowledged me parents, which was nice. I guess. He approached rather quickly and stopped right in front of me. I stared at his shoes. My breath quickened and I could feel my heart pounding once again. Why did he have this power over me? It was like no matter what, I felt compelled to him. My body reacted to his presence no matter what I did or how I felt.

A hand appeared in front of my face, looking to help me up. I stared at it for an extended amount of time before he spoke.

"Stand up."

I did slowly, not taking his help. I kept my eyes low, however. He noticed this and spoke again.

"Look at me."

I was hesitant. My heart was still beating like mad and my mind felt hazy. It was the same way I felt at the sorting when we first met. He must have noticed my hesitation because his hand touched my chin, softly, and raised my head for me. When he touched me, it was like I was on fire. But in a good way. I couldn't stop my eyes from needing to investigate his. So, they did.

We stared at each other. His dark green eyes were as captivating as when I first saw them. They made me feel so many different things at once. Fear, intrigue, safety. Though, I couldn't read them. I had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. His eyes were closed off, guarded. I wondered why.

"You left", he finally stated.

"You left first", I replied, quietly. My mouth moved before I could stop it. I was instantly afraid he would be mad at me for speaking out of turn. He could probably see it in my eyes. I was never good at hiding my emotions. They always showed up on my face.

But he didn't get mad. He smirked instead. It was a light smirk that made me feel giddy inside. It made me feel butterflies. He made me feel butterflies. No other man has ever made me feel this way before and I didn't know if I liked it or not. I felt the urge to adjust my glasses, but I refrained.

We stood there for a moment again. That smirk on his face had faded and now he was looking at me with an intensity I was unfamiliar with.

"Let's go."

This is it.

"Can't I say goodbye?" I pleaded.

"There's no time. We have to leave."

My old life ends now. I really liked my life. I had my family. Though my brother and I didn't really talk, I loved him. Id like to think he loved me. I hadn't seen him since the sorting started. He was probably out with his friends. He was always out with his friends. My parents were the best. My mother was caring and kind. My father was stern but smart. I looked up to him a lot. I didn't really have any friends. Sure, there were people I would see around and say hi to, but we never hung out. I liked to be by myself. It was safer that way. When you invite people into your life, you also give them the option of leaving. It always hurt when they would leave. So, the less people in my life, the less would leave. Its simple math really.

I gave one last glance to my parents. My mother was crying. Again. She uld barely look at me. My father had a stern look, one that held confidence but also worry. He was trying to keep it together for my mother and I, but I knew deep down that he was terrified. Of what I wasn't sure. I heard someone clear their throat and my head turned in their direction. Dom was standing at the door, holding it open. Again, I couldn't read his expression. I had a feeling that it was going to be this way for a long time, possibly the rest of my life. I started towards the door, slowly.

There was a black car parked out front of my house. I'm sorry. My parents house. I could see it from the open door. A man in a suit got out of the driver's seat and opened the back door, waiting for Dom and me, I presume. I couldn't look back at my parents as I walked to the car. I knew they were in the doorway, watching. Dom was behind me as I continued, slowly. I must have been too slow for his liking because he grabbed my hand and hurried me along. My hand was tingling from the contact. My heart was in my stomach yet again. How could one person, a person I barely know, have this much affect on me? Why was this happening? What was going to happen?

I hadn't noticed when we got to the car. I was lost in my thoughts. My worries.

"Get in," Dom told me. It was soft but also serious. I did.

The door closed behind me as I sat down on the leather seats. The car was nice, far nicer than anything I had ever been in. It had what I only imagined as that new car smell. He got in on the other side. He instructed the driver to go, not addressing me. Maybe that was best.

I stared out the window at my old life. I watched it pass as the car moved.

My old life was officially over. My new one begins now.