Fred McElroy
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 82
Fred stared down at the frosted cupcake sitting in front of him/her. A single lit candle stuck out of the top cup cake. Fred sighed, under his/her breath he/she muttered, Happy birthday to me
Fred hadnt ever had birthday party, and the day was rarely celebrated by his/her several foster parents. Why would they? For most, there was no point in getting attached, Fred knew that sooner or later he/she would get moved on, and so did most of his/her foster parents. Especially the ones that did not appreciate his/her unique style, or the ones that got scared off by his/her talents.
Fred hoped Bridgette, his/her current foster parent, would have been different. Bridgette was a nice and patient woman. She allowed Fred to express him-/herself however he/she wished. Fred was appreciative of everything Bridgette did for him/her. Just as things were getting comfortable for Fred with his/her new situation, he/she was shipped off to Hogwarts. It was something Fred should have been used to by now, but in case of his new foster parent, he/she couldnt get over it.
Fred didnt have time to check the owls before class started and still have time for breakfast. He/She hoped there would be a message waiting with the owls from Bridgette, but even at eleven, well, twelve now, Fred was a pessimist. It was hard not to be, all things considering. And yet, there was hope to that maybe his/her foster mother would remember him/her with something useful too.
Being twelve is rough, Fred thought staring into the flame of the candle. A single drop of wax slid down the candle and onto the frosting. Yeah, happy birthday to me, Fred blew out the candle.
Fred hoped Bridgette, his/her current foster parent, would have been different. Bridgette was a nice and patient woman. She allowed Fred to express him-/herself however he/she wished. Fred was appreciative of everything Bridgette did for him/her. Just as things were getting comfortable for Fred with his/her new situation, he/she was shipped off to Hogwarts. It was something Fred should have been used to by now, but in case of his new foster parent, he/she couldnt get over it.
Fred didnt have time to check the owls before class started and still have time for breakfast. He/She hoped there would be a message waiting with the owls from Bridgette, but even at eleven, well, twelve now, Fred was a pessimist. It was hard not to be, all things considering. And yet, there was hope to that maybe his/her foster mother would remember him/her with something useful too.
Being twelve is rough, Fred thought staring into the flame of the candle. A single drop of wax slid down the candle and onto the frosting. Yeah, happy birthday to me, Fred blew out the candle.