This is a new story I wrote. It was actually based off of a dream I had. The story itself was not made for Harry Potter but I thought that I might as well publish it on here. The original copy is actually published on fictionpress(dot)net. Check it out please. And for the other story I am writing, I promise to update soon and I'm terribly sorry for not updating. I will give you my reasons for not updating sooner on the next chapter of that story.
Love ya all,
P.S. Please Review!
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Simple Plan, just my dreams!
Chapter One: My Death
Song: Shut Up! by Simple Plan
"Thom, do you even know where we are?" yelled my mother, Kristen, at my father. We were currently traveling to Maine to go see my mother's "successful" sisters. Why does the fact that you became successful give you a reason to act like rich, stuffy, uptight snobs? I may never know, but apparently they think that it gives them every reason to act like that.
I hate going to visit my family on my mother's side. My uncles are very dull and rarely talk, instead they spend their time watching football or baseball on the television. It annoys me, but they are better than my aunts. My aunts are very uptight, gossipy and LOVE to criticize my hair, clothing, personality, body, actions, and, basically, everything about me! They also love to talk about my mother behind her back. She is the black sheep of the family and they avoid her like the plague. She married my father, the cop, instead of a guy like my uncles, the doctors. They think she screwed up her life by marrying for love and not money, and they hate me just as equally because they think I am the reason that she is still married to him. I don't care though, I hate them too. They are also the reason why I am a in a bad mood and in a fight with my parents.
They told me last week during dinner that we were going to be traveling to Maine to visit them. "Why do they always go back? Don't they see that those rich, arrogant pricks hate us?" I thought bitterly after they announced the "delightful news" as if it was no big deal. I responded to them a minute later after I got my anger in control. I told them to have a nice flight and tell my cousins Apple, Blake, and Fife I say hi. They stared at me, looking slightly confused, but, mostly, shocked after my statement. I took a deep breath and said the three magical words that caused the biggest fight in the history of parents vs. child fights, "I'm not going." We haven't talked, unless it was necessary, since then.
"Yes, Kristen, I know EXACTLY where we are," said my father with venom dripping through his voice. His jaw was also clenched very tightly, so tight to the point where it jutted out slightly and a huge, throbbing, bluish vein that ran from his eye to his temple protruded out.
"Well than Thom, were the hell are we?" yelled my mother at my father.
"I CAN TELL YOU WERE YOU WILL BE GOING! YA'LL BE RIGHT ON THE SIDE OF THE ROAD, WHILE ME AND HERMIONE GO TO YOUR DAMN SISTER'S HOUSE!"
"WHY DON"T YOU JUST GO TO HELL, THOM!"
"I'LL SEE YOU THERE, HONEY!"
"THOM, WHY DON'T YOU JUST TAKE THIS SHOE AND SHOVE IT UP YOUR-"
"WHY DON"T YOU GUYS JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?" I screamed at them both. All of this yelling was giving me a headache.
"We're sorry, sweetie," whispered my mother before turning back around to glare at my father. "Thom Sparrow…you need to pull up to the nearest gas station and ask for directions this instant."My mother never used that voice unless she was really, really, REALLY mad at my father. My father sighed and pulled up to the inky-dinky, crummy, old Marathon gas station. He parked right in front of the station so that you could clearly see the old, grubby-looking, red counter with a white register that had a Marathon logo and a bunch of Sharpie graffiti plasted all over the side of it and a bunch of merchandise racks on top of it. There was a rather bored looking teen with really bad acne.
"Honey, do I really need to go get directions?" my dad pleaded with my mother.
"Yes, you do," my mother said in a definite tone in her voice as she glared at him. "And, I'm going with you to use the bathroom. Hermione? Do you need to use the bathroom too, dear?" I shook my head no before putting in my earphones and scrolling through my playlist. I wanted something loud and hateful to reflect my mood towards my parents, but it was kinda hard since most of my music was classical, due to my one true passion in life…ballet. I was usually ungraceful but when I put on my ballet shoes, which my mother got for $5 dollars at a garage sale, I was the definition of grace. I glided and leaped as if I was weightless. Ballet was also my release form the world and all of its pressure and stress. It was my safe haven.
I finally found the perfect song for me to release my anger to, Shut Up! by Simple Plan. I turned up the sound to full blast and started to scream along with the lyrics.
There you go
You're always so right
It's all a big show
It's all about you
You think you know
What everyone needs
You always take time
To criticize me
That's when I heard the screaming and yelling coming from the store. I looked up and saw my parents being shoved up against the counter by two tall, big, and faceless men wearing all black with two rifles pointed at my parents. I was frozen in fear. Unable to move to get help or to advert my eyes from the scene.
It seems like every day
I make mistakes
I just can't get it right
It's like I'm the one
You love to hate
But not today
One of the men went behind the counter and yelled at the frightened clerk to open up the till. The other man made my parents to empty out their pockets out on the counter.
So shut up, shut up, shut up
Don't wanna hear it
Get out, get out, get out
Get out of my way
Step up, step up, step up
You'll never stop me
Nothing you say today
Is gonna bring me down
The clerk, after many failed attempts, finally opened up the till and gave the man everything in it. The man quickly shoved the money and my parents' wallets into a bright yellow backpack and ordered the clerk to go stand next to my parents. He and the other man slowly backed away from their very scared and frantic victims and shot them, execution style. That's when I started to scream.
I automatically ripped the ear buds out and ran out of the car. My first instinct was to run to my parents' blood soaked, stiff, cold bodies but the rational part of my brain told me to run, run away; the rational part won over my heart. I ran as fast as my legs would allow me to. I ran to the other side of the highway into the trees and watched as the men ran out of the store and into their black SUV. I quickly got up out of my hiding place to run to the gas station, but it quickly blew up into a massive fireball. Its heat was intense as it engulfed me. I tried to look away but I couldn't. I was transfixed.
I just stood there looking at the flames for what seemed to be months or years or even decades but was really just a matter of minutes before fire trucks and paramedics and police cruisers and passing cars came. The whole busy, chaotic, loud, and confusing scene made the fact that my parents were dead sink in. "They were dead. Gone for forever," was all I could think of. That's when everything went black.