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Nightmare for Breakfast

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Nightmare for Breakfast

Post by Owen Fawly on Tue Jun 08, 2010 3:31 pm

Owen Stood up from the blue and silver lounging chair to stretch from his long sleepless night. He rubbed his eyes furiously; heavy and blood shot from reading the whole night through. Slipping off his PJ’s he quickly fitted himself into his robes. When he snagged a glimpse of himself in the mirror on the wall ahead of him; he was a mess. He may only look troubled on the outside, but on the inside the lack of sleep was getting to him. Every night for the past couple of weeks it’s been the same thing; the same nightmare haunting him getting worse by day. Letting out a sigh through his pink soft lips Owen pulled his gaze away from the Clear Blue eyes that stared back at him. Slowly trudging towards the painting entrance Owen felt his limbs cry out from movement; being crunched up on a chair all night cuddling with a book was probably not Owens best idea.

Lazily, he lifted his wiggly noodle of an arm to the door handle of the painting, but it was too late. The metal was cold, as the bronze warmed in his bare hand. Owen gasped freezing, in place as his blue eyes became clouded over; the blue clear pools of water turning milky, almost white. His back arched as he held on tightly to the door handle, his mind was filled with scenes and pictures as if he had his own personal cinema behind his eyes.

Owen found himself in the Raveclaw tower gazing out across the castle. The blue sky filled with chirping birds and happy students flying around on their broomsticks. But in the blink of an eye it changed. Black Clouds rolled around the castle as rain came down in buckets. Flashes of light cast Owens shadow along the floor as he moved cautiously from the window; the division between him and the storm. Moving toward the portrait entrance he watched as wet, angry Ravenclaw students filed in with wet homework and books; that would likely take the night to dry. Owen walked towards the bronze handle moving his hand warily to grasp it once more. Feeling the now, warmed metal in his hand the blood rushed to his head as though he was being rocketed upwards as the world burst into a flash of white.

Gasping, Owen collapsed to the floor sweat beads trickling along his forehead; his back rose repeatedly with every quick winded breath that escaped the poor boys lips. Pulling his hands into fists he could not believe he had forgotten his gloves; the one thing that separated him from sane and insane. Those fine pieces of leather kept him in control; happy. Pulling himself up from the cold stone floor, he shook uncontrollably, his heart pounding heavy like a base drum against his rib cage. Feeling for his gloves in his robe inside pocket, Owen quickly slipped them on, feeling more secure than before. The grey soft leather felt comforting on his skin, yet posed as a constant reminder.

Owen sat there for a couple minutes, finding the calm once more. Picking himself up off the ground he made for the door; weaker than before he felt as though he may collapse at any second. There was only one thing that could boost his energy now and that was breakfast. Opening up the painting he smiled at it heartedly giving it a brief nod as Owen picked up pace attempting to make his way down stairs as fast as his sore limbs would take him.

Almost home free his ears perked up as he heard a brief quick “pardon me” just behind him. Slowly turning on his heels he looked at the portrait with his heavy clear blue eyes; trying to maintain his obviously fake smile he had plastered on.
“Oh Mr.Fawly, Good morning to you! Is everything, well are you ok? I Heard Gasping from behind the door, and then well you came out. So through deductive reasoning it led me to believe it was yo- “

“Good Moring to you as well.” Owen cut off the painting before he heard its life story; man was this thing ever a chatter box. “I’m quite alright I assure you, just a yawn I guess. Oh, and word of advice- advise the students not to do homework outside tomorrow, the sun won’t last.” Owens' Fake smile turned into a giggle and smirk as he watched the portraits face Shrink up puzzled by the abrupt Forecast.

“Are you saying were in for rain? Ha, Mr.fawly how absurd! We’ve had clear skies all week; not one cloud. We are likely to have clear skies for the remainder if I do say so myself, deductive reasoning points the way don’t you know, eh Mr.fawly! ..... Mr.Fawly?”

Laughing hysterically as he spiralled the tower stairs as he imagined the Portraits face when soaked annoyed students file into the common room tomorrow. Making a mental note to rub it in his face, he attempted to quicken his step as the arousing aroma of freshly baked croissants and peanut butter filled the air.

Finally arriving at the great hall, Owen bee-lined his way to a mostly empty table grabbing an empty plate to fill food with. Filling his plate greedily with freshly baked croissants, a small cup of peanut butter and a knife Owen Took his seat as he kept to himself as he prepared his breakfast. It may sound weird but one of Owens’ favourites was peanut Butter croissants. Taking a bite out of his golden flaky goodness, his taste buds swooned. It was like heaven. As he looked down at his plate he couldn’t help but notice that his eye lids grew heavier, slowly closing and opening. Swallowing, rested his head in his arms; his fists pushing his cheeks up in an awkward fashion that one could only call “attractive”. A smile spread along his lips as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, a quick rest of his eyes could do no harm. But before he knew it he was already drifting off, quickly as he slipped away from his supports landing head first in a croissant pillow.

Owen found himself in a dark room. He was in a bed that was unknown to him but he felt natural in it anyhow. There was no light in this room, no furniture. Only a bed and a nightstand where a book was kept. Curious he picked up the book from the nightstand that called to him. Its binding and cover were course to the touch; it was old and seemed burnt at one corner. Opening up the cover he sat there propped up with a pillow on his back as he flipped the pages stopping only when a small scrap of parchment floated out. Owen watched as it floated to the floor; hard old creaky wood floor. Kicking himself out of his bed he quickly moved to the note picking it up and unravelling it before his intrigued blue eyes. His eyes brows Furrowed when he read the contents hunched on his face as he stood puzzled at the 3 letter word.

RUN.

With that Owen Pocketed the not into his brown cord pants as his blue eyes wandered out the window. His heart beat quickened as he pressed his hand on the cold glass that separated him once again from the world. Dark clouds filled the streets; the world was black, empty and drew out every last bit of happiness from his mind. Fire blazed along the building wall as he moved his hand away in pain form the flash heated glass. Shaking his hand in the air Owen examined it for burns. Jerking his hand back to the window he was met with a cloud of black swirling smoke, with piercing eyes that could still a man’s heart at forty passes. Running for the door of the room Owen could hear the glass break behind him as swirling dark clouds surrounded him, cackling, binding, choking him into their grasp. A flash of green light flew at him as screams rang in his ears.

Owens eyes flew open, Panicked and watery. A scream escaped his lips as he fell out of his seat to the floor. Sweat trickled along his forehead, as he ran a leathery hand through his well kept hair. His heart was once again pounding, beating heavily; the beat Owen knew too well for comfort. His eyes were wide from shock as he pulled himself together. Remembering where he was, finally coming back to reality, his chiselled masculine face turned bright pink as he the heat of embarrassment flushed through his body. Quickly pulling himself off the ground he heard the common room go silent; the only noises that were heard were his as they echoed around the hall. Brushing himself off trying to be as casual as possible he noticed the protruding object on his cheek; half a croissant stuck to his face. Flipping the croissant off his face with a quick flick of his hand, the boy motioned to sit down his face now a bright tomato red. Slumping down on the bench, at the now near empty table, Owen sat there gloved hand crossed with each other as they rested atop the wooden table. The Ravenclaw’s eyes shifted around as he felt stairs bombard him from each corner of the silent room.

Now conscious of his surroundings Owen grabbed his napkin quickly rubbing the remnants of peanut butter form his face. Cranking his neck to look around, he smiled an annoyed yet warming smile in attempts to smooth the incident over, whilst being shot back by stares he received in return. Letting out a sigh he picked up a croissant form his plate sinking his teeth into it; not even the heaven of P.B. on C could help him now. Ignoring everyone else, Owen munched away, as they eventually drew their eyes away returning to the normal bustling sounds of the great hall. It was one thing to have nightmares on his own but in public! What else could this stupid curse of a gift bring him next?

Resting his arms on the table Owen sat there slumped over his plate, feeling a little more alone than usual. Placing his croissant down he looked down at his plate, full of uneaten goodies that he seemed to have lost the appetite for. He sat there still as stone, waiting for the faithful teacher figure to take him aside, figure out what was wrong, and then send him to the hospital wing…. He grew so annoyed of it! Why couldn’t he be normal, why couldn’t he have a normal conversation with someone instead of telling them of grave danger in their future! Lowering his eyebrows to loom over his crystal blue eyes; he sat their frustrated mulling in his pool of thoughts and hopes.
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Owen Fawly
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Re: Nightmare for Breakfast

Post by Astoria Greengrass on Wed Jun 09, 2010 6:13 pm

Astoria Greengrass had been in the Great Hall long enough to have eaten her two eggs and glass of OJ. Dabbing the edges of her lips with a napkin, Astoria’s eyes were drawn to the face of a young boy who was making a beeline for the Ravenclaw table. Tilting her head slightly she watched as he filled his plate with croissants and his croissants with peanut butter. She crinkled her nose at that before lowering her napkin. She was about to turn away and join the conversation of her friends when the young boy appeared to fall asleep. Astoria laughed quietly at this. She had had quite an eventful night as well but undoubtably her’s was a little more risqué than his. She’d been dancing all night in the Slytherin common room after a rather fantastic win at Quidditch. Turning her attention to her friends idle chat she soon forgot the young boy and his peanut croissants.

A scream rang out across the Great Hall and Astoria’s hand clamped reflexively around her wand. Flicking her eyes quickly across the room she realised that the young Ravenclaw boy had been the one that had screamed and consequently fallen off his chair. Releasing he grip she frowned slightly at his behaviour.

“Attention seeker,” she mumbled to herself. However this comment made her blush, she wasn’t generally rude to people she didn’t know. Looking back at the boy she realised that he was trying to collect himself. He’d clearly been through something a little more than just falling off his seat.

Standing up, she moved gracefully through the tables towards the boy. Swishing her wand at her upturned hand an empty goblet appeared in her hand. Placing it before the young boy she poured a glass of pumpkin juice.

“Drink this,” she said firmly but kindly. She didn’t seem to be looking at him when she said this, she was too intent in studying his bright blue eyes. They were extraordinary and she couldn’t seem to turn her eyes away. Shaking her head she pushed the glass towards him and said again, “drink this, it will do you good. You’ll feel better,” as if to clarify herself. She didn't know why she was helping this boy but she felt compelled to.
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Astoria Greengrass
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