I Want to Go Home (Open)

Aoife sat silently in the art classroom. Of all the rooms here at Hogwarts, this was the one where she felt the most at home. Not even in her own dormitory did she feel so comfortable, unless she was in her bed with the curtains drawn. She hadn't made many friends. Even when people tried, she drove them away because she couldn't think of anything to say to them. It wasn't that she didn't want to be friendly, it was that she never knew what to say, like the second someone she didn't know said "hello", all her words deserted her. She couldn't understand it.

She wished she was like Colleen. Colleen could make friends with anyone, but Aoife never could. People always told her she should be friendlier, be more outgoing, just smile and do it. But those people didn't understand how hard it was. They didn't understand how awkward she felt when someone was standing there, looking at her, waiting for a response, and all she could think of to say was, "yes", or "no", or "I don't know". She thought Colleen understood. She always tried to help Aoife, to make friends for her, to bring Aoife in. But now Colleen was in a different house. They'd shared a room all their lives, been together almost every second, and now Aoife didn't know what to do without her sister. They talked every day, of course, but they slept in different dormitories and ate their meals at different tables and had different class schedules. Only a few of their classes were together. Aoife watched her sometimes, from across the Hall. Watched her laughing and talking to all her new friends. She probably wouldn't even miss Aoife if Aoife were gone. Aoife was probably only holding her back.

A tear rolled down her face and dripped off her chin and onto the parchment. It smeared the ink where it fell. It wasn't the only teardrop that had smeared the ink that day. Normally she'd have started over if something ruined her perfect penmanship. Today, she didn't care. She just wanted to finish this letter and send it. She didn't care how it looked. She didn't want to stay at Hogwarts any longer. She only wanted to go home. She blew on the letter to dry the last of the ink and didn't see the final teardrop that fell into the fresh ink. It was a desperate letter, begging her parents to come get her, begging them to bring her home.

Aoife folded the parchment and stuffed it onto the envelope, already addressed to her parents. When they read it, they'd let her come home. They had to. They just had to. But even home wasn't home anymore. What she really wanted was to go back to Mali. It had been months since she last saw a giraffe. She missed riding on elephants. She missed the howls of the jackals at night. She missed the food and the music and the little mud house they had there, much bigger in the inside than it was on the outside. She never thought she'd say this, but she even missed how badly the elephants stank. She missed everything. Nothing was like it used to be. Everything was different.

Aoife moved to the window and saw that it was raining. Perfect. She couldn't send an owl out in this. Poor thing would get soaked. She sat on the windowsill and stared out, watching the raindrops weave dirty paths down the window pane. Just like teardrops. The tears she'd been fighting all afternoon filled her eyes, and she let them. There was no one here to see. No one knew she was here, and no one would probably care. She was all alone. She choked on a sob; she'd never thought it was possible to feel this lonely. It all burst out of her in gut-wrenching sobs that left her throat sore and her heart empty. She cried so loudly that she didn't even hear it when another person entered the room.