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Post by albus on Nov 16, 2008 18:55:56 GMT -5
"Home is where the heart is," Albus Potter read aloud, a sign hanging above his parent's room. His hand rested on the handle but he didn't turn it. He couldn't bring himself to enter their room. He hadn't entered it since they died and he still refused to do so. He didn't think he could handle the memories flooding back at him. The times he had slept in their bed when he had a scary nightmare. Or the times he went in there, snivelling about the horrors of his older brother or when he got hurt. Or even when he hid underneath the covers during a thunderstorm when he was 5. Just holding onto the doorkob brought back the simplest of memories and tears to his own eyes. He finally let go and turned around, his back now to the door.
He looked into his own room across the wall, his door wide open and filled with boxes. It was his small attempt at packing, at getting ready to leave though he had no money and no way to pay for his own life. He was living here rent free. His unsuccessful attempts to hold onto a job or even getting one was leading him to a life that he knew his parents would never want. But they weren't here, he thought bitterly. They weren't here to help get along or give him advice on what he should do. No, they were dead and there was nothing he could do about it. He sighed, shaking his head but a tear slipped down his cheek. Nobody was home, he thought. It was only him and part of him told him that it was alright to cry. It was alright to show weakness but he wasn't weak. No way in hell was he weak.
He felt him slide against the door, slipping onto the ground. He buried his face into his hands, trying to calm himself down. He had to be strong, for Lily and for James. He felt like it was his job, even though he was only the middle child. The youngest boy out of two and most would think that it was James who was responsible of the younger two. But James had a job and Al was left here to hold onto himself, to care for himself. Tomorrow, Al thought. He would find a job and maybe get a place of his own. But deep inside, Al knew finding a job that he would keep would be difficult. No job could ever satisfy him and he was looking for something that he was interested in, not something that would just bring in the money. Instead, he sat there, letting the tears fall softly, crashing into his hands. He wouldn't be bothered inside of his only home.
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