The Keeper

Chapter 3

The songs I listened to are All Around The World by Oasis (my all-time favourite band <3),  I Write Sins Not Tragedies by Panic! at the Disco and Hey Jude by The Beatles.

*

My first instinct when my eyes fluttered open was to shut them again and go back to sleep. Remnants of a pleasant dream were dancing through my hazy mind and I longed to slip back into it. I groaned and raised my wrist to check my watch. My arm was stiff, aching as I moved it. My watch lit up when I pressed it. The pink light was an unwelcome assault on my tired eyes but I managed to read the time: half past five. That meant another two and a half hours before breakfast started. I decided against reading or trying to stay awake. Instead, I happily curled up and shut my eyes, allowing myself to catch a little more sleep.

It was dark. That was the first thing I noticed. The second was that I couldn't move. A wave of panic coursed through me, chilling me to the bone. I struggled to move, anything, any godforsaken part of my body.

I could only blink and whimper.

"Don't bother," a voice said coldly. "It won't work." The voice was male, I knew that, but oddly high-pitched. "Isn't that funny?" He broke into a maniacal cackle. I wanted to be sick.

"Where are you?" I asked. My throat was dry and it hurt to speak. "Who are you? What do you want with me?"

"Tut, tut. So many boring questions." I heard his shoes tapping against the hard floor, a series of metallic clinks that physically hurt to listen to. "But I suppose I should answer some of them."

"That would be helpful," I muttered, trying to convince myself I wasn't afraid.

"First of all, you won't talk back," he hissed. I attempted to pinpoint the direction his words were coming from - he seemed to be everywhere. "Secondly, I'm right behind you."

Something cold and smooth ran down my cheek. A knife.

"Stop! Please!" I cried. There was no point struggling. I couldn't move my body and he was making the most of that. "Why are you doing this?"

His gloved hand dangled the knife in front of my face. The only thing I could do was stare at it, absolutely terrified.

"It's so much fun!" he giggled. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Suddenly, a deafening bang sounded from the back of...wherever I was.

"Excuse me a moment," he said. Although I knew he was trying to seem nonchalant, I sensed a hint of confusion beneath the stony surface.

Other than the metallic tapping of my captor's footsteps, another pair of shoes could be heard in the room. I stifled a plea for help, knowing better than to provoke the man too much. Then came the unmistakable sounds of a physical fight. Both people shouted, but I tried to drown them out so I wouldn't cry. Maybe the person was here to save me? I hoped against hope.

After a minute or two, something slumped to the ground. A body.

"Hello?" I whispered.

"Hey, it's okay," someone said. It wasn't the man, but I'd heard this voice before. They mumbled a spell and I found I could move. My mysterious saviour walked in front of me. Somehow, the only thing I saw was a pair of large brown eyes. "You're safe now."

I yawned. My watch revealed it was nearly seven, leaving plenty of time for a shower on top of hair and makeup.

"Get up, lazy." A pillow was hurled at my head.

"Sasha, how are you awake?" I asked incoherently. "It's usually my job to wake you up."

"Quidditch trials!" she squealed. She was still wearing her turquoise silk nightie. "So you need to drag yourself into the shower. Get ready!"