by Reid Dixon Wed Jan 08, 2014 4:21 pm
- Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZRUTwvPGO58
9th April 2023
Dear Barbara,
Spring’s here again. The tulips have started growing. Purple and orange and yellow. It looks like a river, down in the fields behind the school. Rivers of colours.
I don’t know why I’m writing this to you. It’s pretty much pointless. It isn’t like you can answer.
But I like keeping myself above the stupidities that normal people indulge in. Which includes lying to yourself. I know why I’m writing is because of Rika’s words- her first words to living people in six months. She said that in order to become stronger, you need some moments where you can allow yourself to be weak. Typical Rika. Spouting off philosophy that she dreams up somewhere inside that thick head, which actually makes sense.
Its been a year.
So I’ve picked this day. One among three hundred and sixty five. To be weak.
Today was my first day of classes, in Durmstrang. It starts in spring, instead of autumn like the English magical school, because winters are much colder here. It was.....different. A week back, the school authorities had tested the level of my magical power, since I missed a year, and am twelve unlike the other first years. They considered it acceptable, and allowed me to directly sit in second-year classes. Its stupid. How am I supposed to understand most of the theory if I’ve missed the introductory year? But I didn’t complain.
The boys here, who far outnumber the number of girls, are strange. I suppose it would have been better if I had attended first year with them. That was not possible. They have already formed their groups, their little cliques, the people who they eat with, the people who they practice spells with. I ate alone today. Did my homework alone too, while wondering if I had been this bad at making friends back at Warwick’s.
Thing was, I already had had my little clique the moment I stepped into primary school. The three of us were inseparable back then, weren’t we? And whatever additional friends I had to make, you made them for me.
It was that way. Rika used to write all the English essays and we’d copy from her. I used to do the math and science. And you made sure we always passed in gym, and never ate alone at lunch. Whatever weaknesses one had, the others compensated. It was never like we were three different people.
The nights here are really cold. I’ve been living in the dorms for about a week, since I came a bit early. I used to shut all the windows and draw the blinds before the other boys came, but now they open all the windows the moment they rush in from classes, tossing their cloaks and rolls of parchment any place they can find, and talk and laugh among themselves till late night. I don’t think I’m more susceptible to cold than they are. I just guess they’re all warmed up bundled up in one of the great beds. They do that, always. Come in from dinner, pick a bed and make themselves comfortable on it, secure in their little circle. I don’t mind, too much, even though they do look like they’re having fun. Its better than the nights where all of them sneak out with their brooms, to snatch a few hours of forbidden flight. The dorms are even colder then, and really empty. I sneeze once, and it echoes around for ages.
Its late night now, and I’m wrapped up in one of those thin little blankets they give, writing under the moon light. The moon’s really pretty here. It should seem the same, because different countries still share the same sky. But the moon here seems much brighter, and closer somehow- as compared to the English moon. (How Rika would mock at that sentence. Hit me on the head too, the violent girl- and proclaim I was racist enough to give the moon nationalities). I can see more stars here too. Leo literally hangs on my window sill. I wish I could take out my telescope now, but my toes are starting to get numbed. And I don’t think I could find it.
I’m planning to visit the library tomorrow, to look up a spell to set something on fire. The fireplace in my dorm looks practically ancient, unused for centuries, but I think I can manage something.
I’m sleepy now. Good night.
Happy birthday.
Reid.
