Closed This Can't Be Happening

[Ainmere Pendleton]

Admin Approval ID - 92236​

It was not more than an hour after the news that Ainmere could no longer stay in this house. The house her mom grew up in. She needed an out, an escape. She felt her stomach twisting in knots like she was going to be sick, but nothing came of it. Finally after opening the window and noticing how nice the June air was, she decided that she was going to go for a little walk. Not that she could ask Monty, it was already dark he'd never say yes. So as sneaky as she could she moved from upstairs, to down stairs, and out the door. She wasn't sure where she was going at first, but as she got closer to the aluminum structures of the playground she had a hunch her brain had taken her there for a reason. Ainmere moved slowly, looking over the pieces of equipment with a sad fondness. Now her mother and her father would never push her on a swing again (not that she had been pushed since before school but that wasn't the principle).

She sighed, taking a seat on the swing and kicking the dirt at her feet. Fat tears welled in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. This was some cruel joke on Ainmere, and as she sat there she thought about the events again. A car crash... she was always afraid of apparating. She was so scared that her parents drove whenever they could with her. She felt a pang of guilt. She kicked a rock that was at her feet hard and then hissed in pain. It was heavier than it looked.

 

[Jack Skelton]

Jack dribbled a stone along the lamplit street, watching it skitter and bounce against the kerb. Though it was dark, it was still warm, and the large, detached houses were lit up all the way down the lane. It was a nice road. He knew it like the back of his hand, for he had lived on it all his life, at number forty-seven with the stone pigs. Why on earth did his dad want to leave? If forgetting was the goal, why didn't he just clear out Mum and Beatrix's things? It was drastic, but surely it was less drastic than moving to the other side of the world.

But Jack knew his dad wasn't leaving because of Mum and Beatrix. It was him. He was the problem. First Hogwarts, now Durmstrang - wherever Jack went, trouble followed. He really had tried this time. The professors had been twice as strict and thrice as menacing. But some things were out of his control, and he couldn't help that the boys had made his life a living hell. No matter which school he went to next, one thing was certain: it would be better than the last.

The park was usually empty at this time of night, and when Jack arrived he was surprised to find that his favourite thinking spot was occupied. He was about to turn around and go home when the moonlight caught the girl's face, illuminating a silver track on each cheek. There was no internal debate. Without hesitating, he pushed open the gate, the squeak of its hinges announcing his presence. He withdrew his hands into the cuffs of his sleeves as he approached. "Hi. Sorry, if I made you jump," he said. "I saw you crying. Can I sit with you?"

 

[Ainmere Pendleton]

Squeaking and grinding from the metal of the playground gate alerted Ainmere and she jumped, up off the swing and facing now the person who had entered. It was a boy, who looked to be equal in age, maybe older judging by his height. Her eyes changed from pained to suspicious very quickly as he approached her. However as he spoke she relaxed slightly. After all, if he tried anything she'd just beat him up - she was a farm girl, strong from chores in the early morning. "I wasn't crying." She lied, before wiping at her cheeks. "Yeah, you can sit." She replied before plopping back into the swing, the chains creaking in agony due to their age. They were even rusted in some parts - this playground desperately needed some TLC.

She looked back at the boy before speaking. "I'm Ainmere." She said, though she wondered if her name was too hard to pronounce. She always wondered why her mom chose it. And the thought brought more tears to her eyes. She looked away. "Your parents know you've snuck out?" She asked, figuring he had done the same as she.

 

[Jack Skelton]

Jack climbed over the swing and sat down on it. Obviously the girl was crying, but he didn't argue, or even acknowledge her denial. As long as she was all right, it wasn't any of his business. The chains squeaked as he swung gently back and forth, keeping the toes of his shoes anchored in the dirt. "Jack," he said. As a wizard, Jack didn't think Ainmere was an unusual name. Just pretty. He almost said so, but managed not to embarrass himself. "Maybe. I mean... no." He grinned. "It's only my dad, and he won't know. He goes to bed at half past nine. What about yours? How'd you get past them? Are you a ninja?"

 

[Ainmere Pendleton]

Ainmere watched the boy, admittedly a bit cautiously, as he sat down in the swing beside her. He introduced himself and she nodded. He commented that his parents, well his father, wouldn't know that he was out and she wondered briefly if his mother was dead. Sera's father was gone - why did so many witches and wizards die young? He then asked her about her abilities to sneak and she clammed up for a moment, looking away. "They're dead." She said in a quiet voice. It hurt to admit that, and Ainmere felt the hot tears on her face again, though she made no sound nor did she look at the boy to indicate she wanted anything to do with talking about how she was feeling. "Half past nine is before my bedtime." She made the remark to try and clear the tension she felt like she was creating. "So why the playground."

 

[Jack Skelton]

"Oh," said Jack. "That's a bit extreme, isn't it? You could've just knocked them out." He glanced at Ainmere to see if she had appreciated his joke, only to realise she was crying again. Then it hit him. What if the wound was still fresh? "Sorry, that was really bad. Are you...?" Instead of finishing his sentence - the answer to his terminated question was pretty obvious - he looked back out across the dark landscape. The lights of the next town over were like a small galaxy. "I don't know. It's quiet. Usually there's no-one here. And there's a badger. Under there. That bush." Jack pointed. "But I haven't seen him for a while. I think he lives in the woods, and that's just, like, his secret den. He had a party the other night. There were cigarettes and beer cans and all sorts in there."

 

[Ainmere Pendleton]

Ainmere wondered if that was too heavy a thing to dump on someone, but the kid next to her didn't miss a beat. And thought fresh tears were visible on her face, she laughed at the dark humor a little, hiding her smile behind her hands as she did. She looked around for said badger as he spoke but didn't see one around. Maybe it was like a vacation home for him. "Well he must be in with the wrong crowd then." Ainmere jested back at the boy. "Sorry, I'm kind of a bloody mess. I'm not at home because it happened this evening, and I know I should be with my family but I doubt with my little sister around my grandfather has even noticed I'm missing."

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty slowed from a jog to a brisk walk as he turned onto Grantham Road. When he had left Rion with Ava at the house, he had been convinced Ainmere would be at the park, but the closer he got, the more anxious he grew that he was wrong, until the air almost seemed to resist his advance. But he had to check. The sooner he checked, the sooner he could update the authorities either way, and the sooner they could find his granddaughter.

Just be safe. Please, please be safe. Should he have predicted she would disappear? She was so much like her mother. That was why Monty had come here, to the park Saveli had run away to when she was only a little older than Ainmere herself. This time, there had been no argument, and the sky was clear and full of stars, but the cold dread was hauntingly familiar. It was a road full of old ghosts, and they rose to meet him at every step.

At last, the park came into view. The moon and the nearby streetlamps offered just enough light by which to see them: Ainmere, and a young boy of an apparently similar age. She was safe. She was with a friend. Neither of them had spotted Monty, and he leaned on the fence to catch his breath and let the adrenaline subside. His hands were still shaking when, a minute later, he called out to them. "Ainmere!"

 

[Jack Skelton]

Jack listened to Ainmere's story with growing sadness. He didn't know her, but he knew her pain. Suddenly his own problems didn't seem so large any more. "I'm sure he has," he said, though without knowing her grandfather he couldn't be certain. He just couldn't bear not to at least try to comfort her. "I'm sure he's worried. I'm so sorry..." Before he could get any further, a voice called out behind them. Jack twisted his swing around and was startled to see that he recognised the figure by the fence. Even in the darkness, it was difficult to forget the face of a man who had chased you out of his garden for stealing his flowers. "Oh, s**t," he said, springing up. "Is that him? I think I'm in trouble. I've got to go - it was nice to meet you - and I'm sorry!" With that, Jack disappeared into the darkness, running, as he usually did, from the trouble he himself had created, and praying it would not be the last time he saw the girl with the red hair.

 

[Ainmere Pendleton]

Ainmere appreciated the reassurance but she could help but feel like her Grandpa might be more concerned with Rion who had been screaming and crying. Ainmere was typically the more stoic of the two she felt. She looked and gave him a crooked smile but it was shortly interrupted by the appearance of her Grandfather. Then things moved fast. She watched as the boy took off and she was too confused to even say goodbye. Instead she focused on how to talk her way out of this trouble she was probably in.

She stood and moved to her grandpa’s side. “How long am I grounded for?” She asked pathetically, not even looking up at him.

 

[Monty Pendleton]

Monty wondered if the dark was playing tricks on him. Not three days ago, he had gone out into the garden to find Saveli's shed door ajar, propped open by an unfamiliar shoe. This same young boy on the swing had stolen several clusters of Saveli's flowers. Flowers that Monty had dutifully tended to since Saveli had moved out, and which, even prior to her passing, had held enormous sentimental value. What was Ainmere doing with him? Was she complicit in what he had done? These were questions Monty would ask, but not yet. Not now. None of it mattered now.

"I'm not grounding you," he said, almost choking on the words. "I'm just glad you're safe. Come on. Let's go home." It wasn't home for Ainmere yet, but it would be. He would do everything within his power to prove it. And one day, be it tomorrow, in a year, or long after Monty himself had become but a whisper in the rose-perfumed breeze, she would know it had been true all along.

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