Harry Potter: I Cast

I lazily opened up my eyes, my head spun around as I inspected what was in front of me. Torn down wallpaper, rotten walls, smashed bottles laid around the ground and at the center of it all was a woman snoring on a sofa.

The woman suddenly woke up as she turned and fell to the floor.

"Huh, what time is it?"

I stayed quiet while inspecting the woman, blonde ruffled hair, celeste blue eyes, you could have even called her beautiful were it not for the fact she was covered with her own puke, but at that sight my body shivered, I couldn't clasp my fingers, I couldn't even squint I was just stuck there staring at the woman, staring at my mom.

She walked over to me a small smile on her lips before muttering, "How are you Louise? Did you have fun at school today?"

Wait Louise? Was that my name it felt right? But at the same it didn't.

My mom stood there staring at my shivering body, still I was able to stammer a reply, "I-i'm fine. Scho-ol went well."

"That's good Louise, I'm gonna go make you dinner."

I nodded at her words, feeling her place her hand over my head making me shudder. Yet she did nothing, she just went over to the kitchen, well if it could even be called that, just like the rest of the house everything looked either filthy or broken.

Mom took out a clean pan from a cabinet, she heated and placed some oil on it letting it heat up. She then stumbled over to the fridge, taking out some chicken breasts, she sprinkled them with some salt and pepper on each side after which she placed them in the pan.

TTTTSSSSS-SSSS

Some oil jumped out as she placed the food, some even burnt her hand but she didn't move her hand away, at this moment my mom looked well like a mom but I knew it wasn't going to last, it never lasts.

"Louise could you start putting the table."

Again Louise, it felt wrong but I did as she asked grabbing the tablecloth, the glasses, utensils and plates, but there was a slight distinction between the ones I had laid out, my mom's were cleaned while mine.. well let's just being filthy was the best part of it.

My mother walked over to the table placing the still boiling pan on it, maybe she didn't notice she was scorching the cloth or the table beneath but I didn't think she cared.

"Eat the ones you want," with those final words she walked over to the kitchen once more opening up the fridge while I started picking up two pieces of chicken. As she walked back, dread filled me, in her left hand was a bottle of wine, those damn bottles.

My mother poured a small amount of wine into a glass, her movements deliberate yet shaky, as if she were trying to maintain control. She swirled the liquid around before taking a small sip, her eyes closing briefly as if savoring the taste.

The tension in the room thickened, a silent promise of the storm that was to come. I kept my gaze down, focusing on the plate in front of me, chewing each bite of chicken as slowly as possible. Maybe if I was quiet enough, careful enough, she'd stop at one glass.

But she never stopped at one glass.

She refilled her cup, this time pouring a little more. The sound of the wine sloshing into the glass was loud in the quiet of the room, a signal that things were about to get worse. I continued eating, forcing the food down even as my stomach twisted into knots. My mother sat across from me, her expression distant as she sipped her wine, again and again, the level in the bottle slowly dropping.

"Louise," she said suddenly, her voice startling me. It was still clear, but I could hear the edges of slurred speech beginning to creep in. "Do you know what I used to dream about when I was your age?"

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on my plate. I knew better than to engage too much when she started talking like this.

"I used to dream about being someone important, you know? Someone special." She laughed, but it was a bitter sound, harsh and cutting. "And look at me now, just a nobody. A drunk, pathetic nobody."

She refilled her glass again, nearly to the brim this time. I could hear the tremor in her hands as she set the bottle back down, the glass rattling against the table. My heart pounded in my chest, and I fought the urge to run. But where would I go? There was nowhere safe from this, no escape from the spiral that always followed.

"Do you know why I'm like this, Louise?" she asked, leaning forward, her eyes boring into mine. Her words were heavier now, thick with the alcohol. "Do you?"

I shook my head again, but that was the wrong answer.

"It's your fault," she hissed, her voice suddenly sharp, accusing. "All of this is your fault. If you had been different, if you had been better, maybe he would have stayed. Maybe I wouldn't be stuck in this hell."

I shrank back in my chair, my small hands gripping the edge of the table. This wasn't the first time she had blamed me, but that didn't make it any easier. Each word cut deep, leaving wounds that would never truly heal.

"You ruined everything, you damn monster," she continued, her voice rising. She reached for the bottle, her hands shaking so badly that she nearly knocked it over as she lifted it to her lips. She drank directly from it now, not bothering with the glass anymore. The wine spilled down her chin, staining her already dirty shirt.

"Ben left because of you," she spat, her words slurring together as she pointed an unsteady finger at me. "He couldn't stand you, couldn't stand the sight of you. You drove him away!"

I wanted to disappear, dig a hole and never come back out. But there was no hiding from this, no escaping the venom that spewed from her mouth. I didn't know why I felt this way, why memories that weren't my own were popping in my head it seemed like too much.

"It's your fault!" she screamed, her voice breaking as she stood up, swaying slightly on her feet. The bottle was still in her hand, clutched so tightly that her knuckles were white. "It's all your fault!"

She stumbled towards me, and before I could react, she had grabbed a fistful of my hair. Pain shot through my scalp as she yanked me out of the chair, dragging me across the floor. I stayed silent knowing that if I yelped things would be worse still tears unconsciously dripped down my cheeks. She pulled me through the kitchen, past the broken-down appliances and the piles of trash, and out the back door.

The cold air hit me like a slap, the sudden contrast making me gasp. Snow covered the backyard, a thick blanket of white that muffled the sounds of the outside world. But there was no muffling her words, no escaping the cruel accusations that kept coming.

"You think you're so innocent, don't you?" she snarled, her breath fogging in the icy air as she dragged me towards the small shed at the back of the yard. "Well, maybe a night in here will teach you a lesson."

She threw me inside, the force of it knocking the wind out of me. I landed hard on the wooden floor, the impact sending a jolt of pain through my body. I scrambled to sit up, but before I could, she was on me again, slapping me hard across the face. The blow sent me reeling, my cheek burning where her hand had connected.

"Think about what you've done," she said, her voice cold and devoid of any warmth, any love, this was her, this was my mom. She stepped back, her eyes narrowing as she slammed the door shut. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed in the tiny space, not that it mattered if I went inside again something worse than the cold would be waiting for me.

I could hear the wind howling outside, the snow piling up against the walls of the shed. My body shook, not just from the cold but from the fear, the despair that wrapped around me like a suffocating blanket. I huddled in the corner, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to make myself as small as possible.

This was me, this was Louise.

The shed was barely big enough for me to stretch out in, the walls closing in on me as the minutes dragged by. I didn't know how long I would be in here, how long she would leave me to freeze, it changed from time to time. The only thing I did know is that when I did get out it wouldn't be long before I was back in here.

I thought of Ben, my mom always yelled his name. I never knew him, heck I didn't even know his last name, I guessed he was my father but mom never said, the one thing she did say was that it was my fault he had left.

Tears welled up in my eyes again, the cold air biting at my skin as they spilled down my cheeks. I could still feel the sting of her slap, the burning accusation in her voice as she told me it was my fault.

It always was.

No matter what happened, no matter how hard I tried, no matter my grades, I could never be good enough. I could never take away my fault, I could never, no, would never be good enough for her.

Time passed slowly, the darkness inside the shed growing thicker as night fell. I tried to keep myself warm, rubbing my arms, huddling deeper into myself, but it was useless. The cold seeped into my bones, numbing me, making my thoughts sluggish. I wanted to sleep, to escape into unconsciousness, but fear kept me awake, the fear of what would happen if I let myself drift away.

My mind wandered, for a moment why did I feel so weird, why didn't I feel like Louise.

I shivered, my breath coming in short gasps, the cold was biting, I never grew accustomed to it.

Words that I didn't mean to say escaped my lips. "Why did you have to leave Felix? Why couldn't we stay together like when we were kids?"

Memories crawled forward, memories of my best friend Felix leaving for boarding school four years ago and leaving by myself, leaving me alone.

My eyelids grew heavier the cold creeping in, as my breath slowed down I fell asleep.

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"Ha!!"

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