Brielle Anderson had always been a happy child, full of questions and a never-ending pit of things to say. But on the evening of August seventeenth, just days away from returning to Hogwarts, a terrific tragedy changed her life for good.
Being sent...
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s e c r e t t h i r t e e n
Remus was sitting at the table in the very back corner. I spotted him as soon as I rounded the last bookshelf. He was like I always remembered him; sandy blonde hair, freckles, melted caramel eyes, and a jumper paired with black trousers and worn shoes.
When I neared the table he glanced up from a book and sent me a small, hesitant smile. "Good afternoon, Brielle," he said. After I sat down he added, "Uh, how has your day been so far?"
"It's been alright. How about yours?" I asked.
"Good." He smiled at me and then flickered his eyes down to the table.
"I finished the book," I said after a few seconds of silence.
"I see that," he said. "And what did you think?"
"Well," I began, bringing all my thoughts of the book to the front of my mind. "I loved it. The little prince is such a relatable character, you know? He's just trying to cure his loneliness, traveling from planet to planet, meeting person after person. When he goes back to earth and the fox teaches him that the important things in life are only visible to the heart, I had to stop and write it down because it's just so beautifully written."
I stopped talking abruptly. Remus was gazing at me with amused, sparkling eyes, and I felt my cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Had I said too much?
"Sorry," I mumbled, grabbing the book out from my robe pocket and pushing it across the table toward him.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked, taking it from me.
"I didn't mean to say that much."
He laughed softly. "Well, don't be sorry," he said. "I never thought about what the fox said like that before, about how the heart can see things as they are. I think that's very smart."
"Thanks," I said, wondering whether he really meant what he said. Maybe he was just saying it to make me feel better. With this thought I stood up abruptly from the table and said, "And thank you for lending me the book. I really enjoyed it. I'll see you later, maybe."
And then, being me, I left.
I waited until I was a few halls away from the library entrance before breaking into a quick jog, headed toward the castle doors. I cursed myself over and over along the way, while my boots glided over the grass of the grounds and plopped down in front of me as I sat behind the birch tree overlooking the lake.
I cursed the fact that I let myself open up my heart for a second. That I poured part of me out for someone to see, for forgetting that happiness wasn't meant for someone like me. I cursed the fact that I couldn't stop believing this, that I kept circling back to this feeling of hate for myself and despair over my life.
I felt selfish, but with that selfishness I also felt a little safe. Safe behind those walls I continued to build up around my heart and my soul, keeping hidden the parts of me that could be ripped away in a painful grip of agony.
I felt safer when alone than I would've been getting close to someone, knowing that they could be gone in a heartbeat. Maybe that made me a coward, maybe it made me afraid. But if I didn't have to go through the horrible pain I'd gone through again and again, then so be it.
