Of Larks and Nightingales - Youthful Soliloquies

by Sabriel Gardinier Mon Oct 31, 2011 7:09 am

(( *NOTE: If anyone reads this, the amount of space left on the side represents how much Sabriel was doodling in the margins. Wink

))

AUGUST 28th, 2010

Dear Journal,

"Beauty, like ice, our footing does betray
Who can tread sure on the smooth, slippery way
Pleased with the surface, we glide swiftly on
And see the dangers that we cannot shun."

John Dryden is an interesting fellow. So is Emily Dickinson. I'm
not particularly fond of muggles; they like to make fun of my hair.
And more often than wizards do, they mistake me for the opposite
gender. For such fascinating creatures, they make my hair stand
on end. Why, there was this one child, a freckled thing. She
assumed me a wraith. She literally grabbed her mother's sleeve and
said, "Look, mum! A ghost."

So ashamed I was, I took shelter behind my own mother. I did not
speak of the reason, but I clung to her skirt until we finally reached
Diagon Alley, where I was forced to let her go unless I wanted to look
like a fool.

My sister Natalie had actually accompanied us. It was she that
took me to get fitted for my robes, as Mother suddenly became
enraptured with a collection of bewitched purses and bags. As I was
wincing from the constant pricking, she informed me that I would be
getting a pet.

"You jest!" I'd said. It was impossible for it to be true, at least on
Mother's part. And I was right; Natalie fully intended to buy a pet for me
behind my Mother's back. I did not think it was a good idea at all. What
was the point? Mother would just take the think back to the pet shop.
Getting the thing, yes, would be almost agonizingly easy. But keeping it?
No way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ - Sabriel Eurora

by Sabriel Gardinier Mon Oct 31, 2011 7:36 am

08/29/2011

Dear Journal,

"Luck is not chance, it's toil; fortune's expensive smile is earned."

Truly? I only have two more days to spend with the family. It is just myself, Mother and Father now. Oh --
and the maidservants. Marianne eloped with a handsome scholar and the two of them moved in together
that summer. I could tell mother was relieved; my sister was beginning to overstay her welcome.

At moment, I'm exhausted. Father took me up to the hills after shopping yesterday. Just as I was wondering
if he had finally taken that last step of sanity, he had formed some maneuver. Before I knew it, I was lying
face down in the dirt. He explained to me that his attack was one of the most basic of Taekwondo offenses,
and informed me of how weak I was to have no been able to dodge it.

Vaguely I wondered what he expected. Did he want me to read his mind? Granted, I was a blue belt, and I
should have seen this coming. But where was my mind these days? Certainly not where it belonged. And
certainly not where I wanted it to be.

Ferris 'trained' me for most of the day. The final half consisted mainly of Ferris screaming at my beaten, ex-
hausted body. For some reason, he threw stones at me. Perhaps he was redirecting his anger at the earth?
Unlikely. I was still his own, personal little failure.

He dragged me home and simply left me on the patio. By the time Mother found me, I could hardly breathe, and
I was nigh delirious with fever. I thought a bumble bee had come along and swept me up in her hive. I dreamed
of honey and nectar. When I woke, I realized the hive was simply the warm kitchen. The honey was apple cid-
er. And I'd dreamed the strangest thing; the largest bee. The father bee. He was trying to strangle me in my
sleep.

-- Sabriel

P.S: I didn't get the pet.

by Sabriel Gardinier Mon Oct 31, 2011 7:46 am

08/30/2011

Dear Journal,

Only a day until term begins. I suppose Mother is upset; we went to an amusement park today.
She's never been so extravagant before. Usually when her children set off for school, she
throws a nice little social event and invite the friends and family.

My hair is crammed into the tightest bun Mom could make it, secured with pins. Father was com-
ing to the park with us. He forced me to walk beside him, keeping my eyes to my feet. I truly, des-
perately wanted to be with my mother or sisters, but I was a boy and boys preferred the comp-
any of their fathers.

Ferris scares me. I suppose he would scare anyone. But the rides he made me get on were
insane. I thought I was going to die with each lurch, each fathomless drop! And by the end of
the third one, I was crying and I had run away. A nice man offered to help me find my mother.
He was muggle. He thought I was a little girl, even with all my hair pulled back. I did not mind.
But I also did not trust him. So I gave him the slip near the hayride.

I hate amusement parks. I found Bellrose and announced my desired departure. Of course we
ended up staying until night, but I did not get on any more rides. Father ignored me, which was
a first. He ignored me until I went to bed. He ignored me as I retrieved my art supplies from his
bedroom, where he keeps them in a drawer. I cannot use them without his permission.

I certainly have quite a life. I could only wonder what the year at 'Warts is going to be like.

by Sabriel Gardinier Mon Oct 31, 2011 8:00 am

09/01/2011

Dear Journal,

Our house is crowded. It's stifling me. Mother, Grandmother
Dominique, Grandmother Nadine, all my sisters and their children all
had come to see me off to school. You would think there was some ex-
travaganza in motion. The women of the Gardinier family always
did things flashy. You wouldn't be a Gardinier if you didn't.

"Hogwarts." My sister, Daphne, had scoffed. "You think they would
choose a name that sounded a little more tasteful.

"Isn't that place crawling with Death Eaters?" Labelle's voice was dis-
tant, then suddenly she was mortified. "Oh, Sabie, do be careful!" Her
accent was so strong, I felt more comfortable envisioning her words
with Italian phrases rather than English.

"How can anyone allow my dear thing to attend such monstrosity of a
school?" Natalie complained. "Why, dear Sabriel would be better off ho-
meschooled."

Their concern was nice, but I was happy to finally be boarding the Hog-
warts express a few hours later. I was a tad late, as my sisters couldn't
find a way to style their hair to their liking. More delays occurred as men
of various ages stopped them in an effort to coercer a number out of
them.

I had an apartment all to myself. That's nice! Last year, I had to share a
compartment with a gloomy girl and a boy that talked too much to be heal-
thy.

Well, on to Hogwarts I go ..

by Sabriel Gardinier Tue Nov 01, 2011 9:33 pm

09/02/2011

Dear Journal,

I don't think I've ever felt hate before. Or anger. But annoyance is merciless. Of course, I have
had run-ins with Peeves before (he takes a special liking to first years), but he seems to enjoy
tormenting me in particular. Ghosts. Do they stay that way forever? If not, I would be more than
happy to aid Peeves in moving on to the afterlife. He has a rather sizable handicap in that
department. And while I'm at it, I'm sure sad old Binns would appreciate it as well. I just
cannot forgive his incessantly torturous History lessons.

-- Eurora

by Sabriel Gardinier Sat Nov 12, 2011 7:41 pm

11/12/2011

Dear Journal,

Two nights ago, I had met the most wonderful woman. She changed my life. She is going to help "fix" me. Father would be happy.

I have also acquired a bodyguard. He is Professor Michael Tremaine, and he is quite the character. He works at Hogwarts. He is going to help me hone my skills so that I may become an Auror. Farrah does not know of all this. I feel a little guilty for not telling her; she is my closest friend, after all. But I made a promise and I intend to keep it.

Dinner was actually wonderful. The Slytherins did not bother me. My housemates are all very kind. I have to wonder what is going on with the girls, however. They giggle each time I look at them. They are quite rude; I don't very much enjoy being laughed at. Farrah says the like me, but I am inclined to disagree. Oh well, they are lovely ladies all the same.

-- Eurora

by Sabriel Gardinier Tue Nov 15, 2011 2:20 am

Of Larks and Nightingales - Youthful Soliloquies Daphne10

She has a lot of spirit.

by Sabriel Gardinier Thu Dec 29, 2011 2:28 am

Dear Father,

It's all right you didn't give me any presents this year; I did not much deserve them. I had failed to practice as you had instructed, and despite my progress with school, I did not right to you as often as I should've. Also, despite it all, I've received many gifts, so I needn't feel saddened. They were courtesy of my sisters. They are not unkind. Mother and grandmother showered me with a plethora of sweets, books, clothes, gadgets and other things I would find interesting. Like you said, I packed up all my artistic indulgences--including the acrylics--and deposited them your closet the morning after, so I could focus more on fighting and camping.

Thankfully, I felt fine on Christmas. I have been doing better; you would be pleased. However, two days ago I fell prey to a nasty virus. I spent the better part of the afternoon comatose, and the better part of the evening and today in chills, sweats, and in pain. No, I am all right. Mother suggested I not write, because she wanted me to rest, but I am restless more than anything. I've stopped hallucinating, and although I am very weak I feel that it is necessary to write you this letter.

No. You don't want to hear any of that, do you? I'm sorry. ~~Sometimes I wish you'd be more accepting for who I am. You know I don't fail intentionally. I cannot help it sometimes.~~ Madeline wants to put me in an institute. She would love to surround me with doctors even if it means for the rest of my life. I know she means well, but it would drive me insane.

Of course if you find it acceptable, then I will know what is best.

Chloe never tires of me. She's always been a dutiful nurse. Jennifer is always punctual checking my vitals and preparing delicious meals for me, but her apprentice Chloe is also fine. She gets mad sometimes, but I understand.

Mother is nowhere to be found. She seemed sad. I hope she is all right.

Your Son,
Sabriel

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