by O. E. Boroni
A bright warm light filled the room from the single bulb that hung from the ceiling, and I saw that it was an untidy storage room filled with books. There were various boxes in the middle of the room, some sealed and others opened, as well as piles of books just stacked carelessly against the walls. There was nothing of interest here, so I started to turn back when I noticed what appeared to be the side of a metal lion’s head. It wasn't particularly eye-catching, but it was peculiar enough for me to want a closer look. It was behind a bookcase that seemed to have been moved to the side, so when I reached it, I had to push the case even further away so that I could get a decent look.
It was indeed a huge lion head knocker, to a small door that had been hidden behind the case. The knocker was extremely unsettling; its ferocious dentition was exposed through a gaping jaw, and as I continued to stare at it, a sliver of dread crawled down my spine. I intended to leave but found myself reaching out to run my finger along its fang-like tooth. It was surprisingly smooth, considering that it looked like it had been there since the school had been established. As expected, it came away with a thick layer of dust that showed that it had been ignored for a long time.
Cautiously, I poked at the fang, marveling at the detail that went into it only to be startled by the gentle creak that ensued. Looking carefully, I realized that the door had come slightly ajar. This, I realized, was my cue to leave, but instead, I pushed the door open despite its stiffness, and then squeezed myself behind the bookcase so that I could slip inside.
The darkness I met was overwhelming, but it wasn't enough to deter me. Encouraged by the light still visible through the slightly open door, I slowly moved forward until my eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to notice a string dangling from what I expected was a ceiling. It was too dark to be certain.
The string had a small knob attached to its tip, so I pulled on it. Thankfully, a soft light which flickered for a few moments before finally stabilizing, filled the room. A quick glance around showed me that it was another storage room, so I was able to breathe more easily.
It wasn't a very large room. It had an irregular shape and was stacked with ceiling high bookshelves. I could see cobwebs and dust that had made themselves at home in every corner of the room, and piles of books that couldn't fit into the bookcases scattered around the floor. The grime and the lack of windows made the room so stuffy that I could almost touch the dust in the air. It was agonizing to breathe, and soon I began to feel like I was going to collapse. I had had enough.
So I turned around and started to head towards the door, but suddenly, my foot caught on something hard. I tripped, and fell head on into a pile of books by the corner. I did try to break my fall, but it didn't stop the pain I felt in my ribs and elbow when I landed on the dusty floor. I thought about getting up, but for a second just decided to remain the way I was, since life wasn't tired of throwing obstacles in my way today.
I was definitely tired of trying to stay sane, and at that point, I felt like just losing it and strangling somebody or destroying something. However, I wasn't ready to be bitten or attacked by whatever could’ve been hiding in the shadows for the last century. So I got up, and dusted my uniform.
Turning to examine what had tripped me, I noticed a slight bulge protruding from underneath the worn out rug on the floor. I hadn't even noticed that there had been a rug on the floor, and as I bent down to examine it, I noticed that once, a very, very long time ago, it had probably been in a deep, exquisite red with delicate gold embroidery. Now, and like everything else in sight, it was drenched in dust.
Casually, I tried pushing it aside but it was too heavy. So I stood up and with both hands, grabbed the edges to pull it away. Thankfully it complied, but by then alarm bells were already going off in my head, asking me what the hell I thought I was doing and why I wasn't running away from this place. But I just wanted to see what was beneath the rug, so I promised myself I would leave as soon as I discovered it.
As I suspected, it was a trap door. And it was also time to leave, but I wasn’t going to. My curiosity wasn't going to let me, so ignoring my inward struggle for reason I pressed on.
Holding the latch attached to the door, I pulled firmly but was met with resistance. Then I tried pushing it down, and it instantly gave way.
My breath caught as I peered through it, but I couldn't see what was down there because again, it was too dark. I did however notice a ladder leading downwards, so as I stared down into the darkness, I thought hard about what I was about to do.
It was a stupid idea, I knew, but even if I didn’t go down today, the fact was that I now knew that it existed and the knowledge was going to bring me back. So I might as well just get it over with. I mean, what could possibly be down there? The school had probably examined the entire premises, and I was sure they wouldn't have allowed anything to exist that could cause any potential damage or harm to the lives of their students.
I swallowed, and at that moment, tried really hard not to think of Hogwarts as I reminded myself that there was a reason the room had been shut off and hidden behind a bookcase. Nevertheless, I managed to push past that. I did wonder who had opened it today and thought it possible that maybe Nathan had also found it. Either way, it encouraged me to think that someone else might be down there already. So as gently and as slowly as I could, I climbed down the dirty and rough, but thankfully firm, wooden ladder.
After about fifteen steps, my feet finally connected with a hard floor. I didn't look backwards or wait to assess my surroundings. I just moved forward because I was on the brink of climbing back up, and returning. Strange thoughts kept recurring in my mind, especially since I could barely see. My mind started to paint pictures of monstrous and unforgiving creatures who were just watching me in pity, but thankful for the meal that had been sent their way. I shivered, and then shook my head to dispel the thought.
I continued meandering down a narrow path - it seemed to be a tunnel – and after tripping and falling on a few stony edges and surfaces, I learnt to be more careful. After a few steps, I started hearing sounds – more like brief whispers.
They would come and startle me, but then just flutter away like they never actually existed. It was creepy, and it made me to start questioning my sanity which seemed to be leading me in all the wrong directions lately. Luckily, I hadn't stumbled on any bones, or worse, flesh, and no animal or beastly grunts either so I figured I was still okay. But the darkness was overwhelming; murky and portent.
As my eyes adjusted, I became aware of the long passage stretching out in front of me. The darkness made me want to turn back so badly and return to safety, but I hadn't looked back since I began this craze and I didn’t want to now. Not because of the fear of a hampering on my ‘unshakable courage’, but because I was scared of what I would see, or better yet what I wouldn't see. For all I knew, the ladder had disappeared, and I didn't think anything could spook or zap me into a frenzy of obscene panic more than that. My only source of safety, gone … I was sure I would collapse.
So I walked on, even though the tunnel somehow seemed to be getting darker, and creepier. The whispers had translated into full voices now, but no words. I was trembling, and the bite from the cold that rushed over me didn’t do my bruises any good.
After a long while, I got to a part of the tunnel that seemed less dark. The walls were also a little bit wider as I didn’t have to press my arms to myself anymore to keep them from brushing against the wall.
Eventually, I saw the end of the tunnel, and an indescribable relief rose up within me. Its wide opening was set ablaze by the sunlight beyond its walls, so I increased my pace to reach it. I still didn't have the courage to look back because there was no need to get ahead of myself in determining my fate- the day had still not ended.
« CHAPTER 7 »
Nervously, I stepped out, relieved to be out of the tunnel but afraid of what I might meet here. Before me, was a thick forest. And although it was very visible from the school grou
nds as it rose up beyond its tall walls, the only thing I knew about it was that it was called the Bowland Forest.
Now that I was in it, I wondered why I’d never been more curious about it. I suppose it was because it was so shut off from the premises and too far away to bother me, but now that I was here, I was fascinated by it.
It was so surreal because as I looked around, I found it hard to believe that I had just come through a tunnel that led me to it. I was so overwhelmed that I felt like I needed to sit down, but instead, I just continued to stand there and stare, until eventually, the darkness from the tunnel got to me. So I took a few more steps forward, before turning around to see where I had emerged from.
It looked like the entrance to a small cave, and appeared to be constructed of stones and rocks placed haphazardly against each other. However, the moss, algae and plants that littered the entrance rendered it almost nonexistent to the untrained eye.
The forest was not as bright as I would have liked because the sunlight was held at bay by the canopy of the trees, however, I decided to go a little further. I had to at least justify putting myself through all this by exploring some of it, but you can’t go too far, I cautioned myself. Only a few steps, otherwise I doubted that I would be able to find my way back.
Walking straight ahead, and as softly as I could, I ensured that I kept on a straight path – despite the obtrusive plants and trees – in order to ensure my safe return. I was still too tensed to relax, darting my eyes around me to limit as many surprises as I could. But it didn’t stop me from noticing how loud the racket of the birds here were, compared to the ones we heard in school. It felt like I was in an entirely different world, similar but different.
It was so calm that I could hear every tap of my feet against the ground as I walked, and although no distinct scent stood out from all the plants and trees that surrounded me, the air felt a little bit more fresh and clean. It slid in and out of my nostrils so smoothly, like I had just consumed peppermints and washed it down with cold water.
I had only been walking for about fifteen to twenty minutes, and was about to turn back when I heard it; the unmistakable whooshing of water and its lapping on rocks. Every nerve in my body rose to attention and I stopped, stilling myself as much as I could so that I could clarify my suspicion.
But despite the deafening racket the birds made, I still heard it – the rushing sound of a stream or river. Instantly I was overcome with intrigue, but instead of being excited, I sighed deeply. It was truly beginning to feel like someone somewhere really wanted me to get lost today, or get into whatever trouble was lurking in this forest.
The gushing sound seemed to be coming from the east so I walked a few steps ahead to avoid colliding with a tree, and then headed towards my right. Locating a lean, crooked branch amidst the weeds and small plants, I picked it up and used it to navigate my way onwards. I walked as fast and as carefully as I could, paying as much attention as I could to the path I was taking so that it would be easy to find my way back.
So I trailed on and on, maneuvering through obtrusive plants with the help of the branch I had found earlier, all the while whispering silent prayers for protection. Everything around me was overwhelmingly green, so apparently spring had been generous to the forest, but not to me. I was getting colder with each passing minute, even though I had my blazer on and buttoned up.
After a while, thousands of scurrying sounds and a million crackles, I finally reached it. And the exhilaration at sighting a lighter part of the forest from afar, where there were no trees to shade the sun was nothing compared to seeing the stream.
It was, of course, beyond beautiful. Utterly breathtaking, and it was also noisy, but that I could overlook. I gazed in awe, transfixed to the exact spot that I had stopped in. The stream was not too wide, but it was a little rocky. That however, didn't stop the waters from gushing heartily over it. The serenity it promised drew me in, and I needed to be even nearer to it so I tossed my branch aside and walked closer.
The banks were sprinkled with shrubs and fallen trunks, but thankfully, I wasn't on the most abundant side. The side I was on, although having numerous trees, was more bare and easier to tread through. Walking forward, I eventually reached the banks of the stream.
The ground dipped slightly, so I had to be careful as I slipped gently down onto the rocky shore. My shoes were already muddied, but I didn't want to damage them completely so I slipped them off, and carefully laid them on the smaller rocks. My hands and pinafore were soiled from clinging to the earth as I crawled down, so I held my hands on the surface of the water, wincing in delight as it erased the traces of dirt off my palms.
Straightening, I found leveled rocks situated consecutively against each other, slightly beyond the edge of the stream. So I walked over them until I came to the biggest one, and then settled on it. Bringing my knees up to my chin, I watched the stream, and as my eyes caught a particularly low tree trunk that loomed over it, ideas began to form in my mind about how it would be possible to swing from it and brush against the water. I shivered at the thought of falling in, and dispelled the notion from my mind.
Inhaling the crisp, clean air, I sighed and wondered at how I could feel the silent and equally boisterous presence of everything. It felt as if I was drugged, and I wished so much that I didn’t have to go back. But after only just a few minutes in my blissful state, I was interrupted.
"Lenora!" someone yelled, and I froze. Instantly, I knew who it was and at first I was relieved; the burden of finding my way back and braving the walk through the tunnel again now gravely reduced, but I cursed under my breath when I remembered how angry he'd been with me earlier.
If he hadn't felt like killing me then, he was definitely going to want to now. But how the hell had he found all this in the first place? There was no doubt now that he was the one that had left it open, and it all made sense why I hadn’t been able to find him in the library.
Rising to my feet, I turned around but almost lost my balance when he barked out my name again. With a frown, I steadied myself and then carefully made my way up the bank. When I emerged at the top, I immediately saw him so I stopped a considerable distance away. He had his hands folded across his chest and looked like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.
“How the hell are you even here?” he asked, in a tone that suggested that the question was directed more at himself than at me. But still, the wind carried it over to me. I didn’t think a reply was expected so I just moved my eyes away from his, and down the length of his body.
His hair was disheveled, shirttails hanging out of his trousers, collar button undone and sleeves rolled up to just below his elbow. He looked very different from his otherwise usually well-put-together look, but I could have sworn that I almost preferred it. I did though, still note the unmistakable air of superiority and control that hung around him, and that was what kept me from lowering my guard.
"I don't think you can even begin to fathom the level of grief that you're giving me,” he said, every word heavy with restrained anger. "How did you find this place?" he asked, a hint of panic in his tone. It would have elicited a bit of remorse on my end but I wasn't sure if it reflected his concern for my safety, or if it was simply because I had found the place.
"It doesn't matter," I said.
Tired of his harassment, I began to walk ahead with the intention of finding my way back on my own since I didn’t expect that he would want to help me. However, just before I moved past him he caught my arm in a grip that showed more than anything, his fury. I looked up to meet his eyes but they were closed in anger. A vein throbbed at his temple. He reopened them, and then looked at me.
"What is wrong with you?" he said, and even though I was turned off by the rebuke in his tone, the emotions of frustration and genuine concern that he allowed to show on his face made me hold my tongue.
"What do you think this is?" he asked. "Do you think this is a joke? A million and one things could happen to you out
here. What if I hadn't seen you? This is exactly what we just fought about."
"It's none of your –" I started but he interrupted, shaking his grip on my arm with a ferocity that intensified the pain.
"Why do you keep doing this? You have no sense of care for your wellbeing and it is driving me crazy."
"I can take care of myself," I said, and I jerked my hand away from his.
"Let's go," he said after a deep breath and he took my hand again to lead me forward, but I pulled it away.
"Let me go!” I said. “I got myself here and I'll get myself back, so you don't have to bother."
I started walking, but stopped after a few steps and turned back to him.
"You know me being here in the first place is your freaking fault,” I said. Then my tone rose. “I was calling out to you and you just ignored me, so you know what, just mind your own business and leave me the hell alone."
With that, I turned sharply and started to stomp along to find my way back. As I walked on, I vowed to kick him out of my mind and only vaguely realized that I wasn’t paying attention to where I was headed. But at that moment, I was angry enough to convince myself that the path looked familiar enough anyway so I continued on, certain that I would find my way.
As I continued to rant about him in my mind, the sounds that I relished when I had first arrived here had now dimmed behind the deafening hum and heat around my ears. He acted like he cared but he actually didn't. All he felt was a twisted sense of responsibility towards me and that was the last thing I needed. I almost wished I could have told him to his face that he needed to learn to look the other way so that his conscience, at seeing me ‘endanger myself’ wouldn't prick him.