Before I Got Obvliviated
September 1st,
I’m not exactly sure what to believe in anymore. The day started relatively normal. I was walking to work, quite oblivious to my surroundings. It was at that point I noticed a family jostling through the crowd, opposing the stream of pedestrian traffic. One terrified looking adolescent was wheeling a trunk with an owl cage on top. Amused at this ludicrous sight, I found myself starting at them along with several others. Glancing at my watch, I realized I was going to be at least 45 minutes early to work at this rate, so I decided to follow them. I immediately realized this was easier said than done, as I was being bombarded with people walking in the opposite direction of me.
Luckily, they turned into the King’s Cross station. What prompted me to continued stalking them passed that point I will never know, because, after all; there was certainly nothing abnormal about a family entering a train station! However, I was intrigued enough to follow them in. I started to capture small phrases within their conversation. Many words I did not recognize. I remember something like ‘Mudgle,” and “Quittich”. This only heightened my curiosity, so I followed them. They seemed to be going towards Platform 10, but stopped in between 9 and 10. At this point, I was utterly bewildered. They were now glancing around nervously, so I hid behind a pillar, peering out of the side. She now seemed to be shoving the youngest one that bore the cart with the owl. She closed her eyes tightly and (to my amazement) ran straight at the barrier between platforms 9 and 10.
I was about to leap from my hiding place to warn her to stop when suddenly—she vanished. At this point, I was fairly sure I was going mad. The older siblings followed, they did it more casually and less conspicuously, but it didn’t change the fact that they too vanished. At this point, the woman who seemed to be their mother began running too. The clock read 10:15. Stunned, I sat there in momentary silence. Just as I was about to leave the matter, two young boys approached the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. The first leaned against it casually and vanished, and second strode confidently toward it and he, too vanished.
A third, and fourth group approached, each vanishing through. Finally, my curiosity took over. I myself walked to the platform, stroking it. My hand seemed perfectly intact. I looked behind me and two teenage girls stood, waiting for me to finish.
“Are you going through sir?” The younger of the two asked. At this point I drew myself up to my full height, cleared my throat and replied confidently,
“Yes.”
(to be continued)
by Sterling Silver Wed Jun 10, 2009 2:52 pm
I think I'll write more tomorrow. Do you have any advice?