What Happened To The Pretty Flowers? ((Sita))

[Ingrid Lewis H4]

It was grey. Just grey. There were no pretty flowers, no singing birds, and no running children. Just greyness. Just grey and dampness. Unhappiness. Just like her eyes. Her eyes which were once blue, now a dim colour of blue that resembled grey. Grey. So much of the world was turning grey now-a-days. Ingrid’s life was grey. As a result of that, her mum’s life was grey. Grey was taking over. Grey was forcing everyone to be the way it wants it to. Grey was an ugly thing, an ugly colour. But did it care? Did it wonder what other people, who didn’t deserve the grey, felt when they looked outside their window and saw grey? Did it realize how much pain it was causing or how many lives it was taking? Probably not. It was probably selfish with its blandness and dullness. It probably didn’t even realize it existed all year round for one little girl, and not just during the winter months. Grey was too much for Ingrid. Grey was too much for anyone.

The trees were dying, the birds were flying away, and the children were inside, all snug and warm inside their beds. They didn’t care about the pretty flowers. They cared about the snow, about the warmth, about their laughter. They didn’t watch the flowers wilt away to nothingness with curiosity or pain. They didn’t care. Maybe that was a good thing. Not to care about how or why the living things die. Maybe it was unhealthy to think of such things. But how does one, who has been through something that is traumatic to them, think otherwise? How do they get rid of the images that are in their mind about grey? Are they capable of it? Or is it something only someone with a great power could obtain? Questions like these were always hovering around Ingrid. Making her wonder why she couldn’t banish the grey to another world like all the other children her age. To her, it was unfair. It was unfair for her to have to deal with medicine and check ups when she was only 12. 12. When did that happen? When did her birthday sneak up on her and surprise her? She wasn’t 11 any longer, she was older but not necessarily wiser.

Ingrid looked up, and watched a crow land on a branch of a dying tree. The bird looked down at her and cocked its head to the side, his black eyes blinking at her. She stared at him, her eyes just as blank but not black… grey. After a moment of staring, the crow flew off. Had she frightened it? Had he seen past her eyes into her soul which was as cold as the ground she sat on? Or had he seen something equally worse? With more questions circling her now, Ingrid pressed her gloved palm to her forehead, would they ever leave her mind? Where were the days when things were exciting? When things were easy to obtain? When running around outside and barefoot, through the flowers and toward your best friend’s house was the problem of your day? Where they had all disappeared to? Where had the pretty flowers gone? The pretty flowers of fluff that filled her mind and protected her from any kind of pain imaginable? Where had her happiness and her youth flown to? Would she ever get them back? Would she ever be Ingy again?

“Caw! Caw!” The crow was back. It was as if he had heard all her questions and was trying to answer them. Ingrid looked up and stared at the crow once more before shifting her gaze to an approaching figure. It was one she recognized well. It was one she missed more than anything. More than the pretty flowers. Ingrid looked back at the crow, which was still staring at her. Maybe he knew where the pretty flowers went.

[Sita Mehadi H7]

Where was she off to now? Sita huffed to herself angrily. Only a flash of blonde hair round the door, and she'd been gone. Sita's call for her friend had died in her throat - remembering all the isolation of the past few weeks... months... year... how long had this been going on for now? Sita tried to think back, to some time when Ingrid had become more distant. When had she decided Sita wasn't adequate? Was it when she'd realised Sita wasn't as mischievous as her? Not as clever as her? Not as bright and sparkling as her? Had she not realised all this before, had she not really accepted Sita the way she was? It was all these questions that replayed themselves in her mind over and over again, and it was those questions that meant she now seemed to be following her friend, despite having just let her go without saying a word.

Trailing after her again. But maybe this time she wasn't wanted. Sita kicked a stone wall in anger, and then hoped that it wasn't an animate stone wall since such things most likely existed in Hogwarts. She tried her very best not to hurt anyone or anything, and perhaps stone walls should count too. Perhaps she should count. Why was she still bothering? It wasn't as though she was the one who'd given up first. It wasn't as though she was still the lonely one. Why did Ingrid's loneliness have to be her loneliness too? It was so stupid, that even when Ingrid didn't care anymore, she still did. They'd used to think that they'd always know how the other one was feeling. Was she feeling like this because secretly she knew Ingrid hadn't just given up on her? Or was that just another silly excuse for her idiotic behaviour? After all, it had been easy enough to know what the other was feeling when you were feeling exactly the same thing. But what had happened to make their lives so very different? They were still in the same school, the same classes, with the same teachers and the same group of friends. A slightly different set of grades, yes - a more marked difference (because Sita didn't want to exploit her clever friend and just get her help in everything, whereas they used to just do everything together anyway), but other than that, what? Did Sita think of the world just in terms that were too simple? Was there something she'd missed which Ingrid could see all too clearly?

Sita looked gloomily at the huge entrance to the castle. Doors were always entrances. It was an entrance to the castle if you were on the outside, and an entrance to the grounds if you were on the inside. But Ingrid was using it as an exit. Get away from Sita, with her cloying devotion and wounded misunderstanding. Into the outdoors, full of freedom and space and loneliness. Sita pushed the doors open. They were massive, but still only as heavy as the much humbler doors at their primary school in Mossley had been. Probably enchanted or something. Nothing good was natural around Hogwarts. Sita missed that about the Muggle World - where most good things were natural. Her eyes locked first on her friend - small, far away figure of familiarity - and then looked anywhere else, determinedly admiring the chill in the air that she wasn't sufficiently protected against, the lake's reflection of the low-lying sun blinding her, the battleship-grey of the sky, or the fading colours of the crunchy leaves that lay on the ground. She jumped through a few of them just to hear them crackle. Autumn leaves made a noise like Rice Krispies: 'Snap, Crackle and Pop'. Mostly crackle. Very satisfying though. Then she stopped as she felt Ingrid's gaze on her.

Sita felt almost belligerent as she finally arrived to stand beside Ingrid. What business did she have to just stare at the girl who'd been her friend for so long? If she was intending to ignore her, she could at least do it in a non-hurtful way. But she checked it, as best as she could. What good would it ever do her to get angry? "Is the crow good company?" she asked coldly.

[Ingrid Lewis H4]

Ingrid continued to look at the crow, although she knew Sita was approaching her. She had been dreading this meeting. She knew it was coming, and she knew she owed it to Sita. She knew that it was unfair for her friend. Ingrid hadn't meant to alienate her, it had just happened and once it had - Ingrid began to wonder if that wasn't for the best. At least then Sita wouldn't have to deal with Ingrid's visits to the hospital or her grouchiness on the days she forgot to take her iron. Deep down, Ingrid knew that Sita would want to be there no matter what and that Ingrid alienating her would hurt ten times more than just letting things happen and letting Sita help her. A cold breeze blew by just as Sita spoke, Ingrid shudderd. It wasn't because of the breeze though, it was the tone of which Sita spoke to her. It was with such coldness, Ingrid's eyes froze; almost wider than normal. She had never heard Sita speak that way.

"Better than most company I've had lately," Ingrid finally replied, regaining her composure. The crow cawed once more and then flew off, Ingrid watched it disappear a moment and then turned back to Sita. She then looked down at the ground. Maybe now was time to talk to Sita. Maybe they could return to the way they were. That's all Ingrid wanted. To be Ingy again. To see nothing but pretty colours. She wanted to put those rose coloured glasses back on, and maybe Sita would be willing to help her with that. "Would you sit a moment? I think it's time I talk to you about something." She locked eyes with Sita, hers almost pleading. She just wanted to talk. To talk about everything, to get rid of this greyness that had engulfed her life.

[Sita Mehadi H7]

Sita wondered whether she'd taken the wrong tack as she waited for Ingrid to say something - anything. Had she blown her last chance? But honestly, it was as angry as she felt right now. Hurt and anger went hand in hand. She looked at Ingrid, though she wasn't even looking back at her, and wondered whether she ever intended making a reply. When one did come, Sita bit back a protest, swallowing her hurt. Sita had tried to keep her company. She'd never thought it would come to the point where Ingrid would actually tell her she was inadequate. She stared at her friend, second upon second upon second. She would not be as cruel as she'd just been - it wouldn't help. "You don't have to..." she said, leaving the sentence hanging. She wasn't one for repeating things emphatically, but that was what was going on in her mind. 'You don't have to just have the crow for company'. 'You don't have to ostracize me.' 'You don't have to be lonely, distant.' 'You don't have to be cruel, I'll leave you alone if that's what you really want.'

She could tell, though, that Ingrid was working up to say something. They didn't used to have to work up to say anything to one another - they were as open as anything. Well, of course apart from Sita. It had been Sita who'd had to conceal part of her world. Not a big part of her world - her parents' jobs were to live amongst Muggles after all - but still a part of her world. And it had niggled on Ingrid's nerves, she knew that. But Ingrid was blocking her out of her whole world. Had Sita really done anything that wrong? Sita looked down at the mud of the ground as Ingrid asked her to sit, and then at the pink jeans she was wearing. It was something that when they were close, she would have done without hesitation, but still she sat complacently. Friendship was more important than fashion, even a friend who'd been ignoring her so much it could only be deliberate. Especially, even. "It's time you talk to me about anything." she said quietly, but not coldly this time. Her eyes wavered as Ingrid held them there. What a serious gaze. She completely missed the plea in it; Ingrid had never begged her for anything. Sita felt a bit like a rabbit trapped in headlights having to hold that eye-contact when all her own eyes could show was hurt that would cause either pain or contempt in her friend - but rather she was trapped in the stone she'd thought their friendship was set in.

[Ingrid Lewis H4]

Ingrid saw the hesitation in Sita's face as she looked at her pants, but she sat down nonetheless. Ingrid sent her a small smile, but it wilted when she said it was time Ingrid talked to her about anything. She looked down at her hands in her gloves, and sighed. She knew she had hurt Sita, and she felt just awful for it. Ingrid felt tears well up in her eyes, but she closed them and they disappeared. She let out a slow breath and then turned to look at Sita, her eyes opened again. "I'm sorry I've been distant lately. I never meant to hurt you, Sita. Honest to goodness. I know I have, but I didn't mean to. There's just a lot I have to deal with. I might be over reacting about it, I mean, the doctors said that it's a common thing. But my mum nearly had me in a bubble all summer long. I guess, that's half the reason why I didn't come over as much as I did years before." Ingrid swallowed a lump in her throat after she said that, and then she let silence hang in the air a moment. Tears welled in her eyes again, "I didn't mean to hurt you, Sita. I was just afraid and I didn't want to make you afraid, too."

Ingrid rubbed her hands together and looked away from Sita, her eyes searching for something to stare at, to focus on. Anything to get away from crying. She found the crow flying again, and watched him. A familiar sight, one that calmed Ingrid a bit. "I think I am over reacting, but it's scary. I used to be so healthy. It's not like I have a disease or anything, I'm okay in that area. But I have never passed out twice in one week, and I never had gone to the hospital and stayed for so long. It was scary. And I didn't want to scare you, or make you worry about everytime I got dizzy. I guess, I didn't want you to turn into my mum."

[Sita Mehadi H7]

Sita faltered in her composure as she watched Ingrid's eyes grow soft with tears. The other girl seemed to be a whole solar system away, but as she saw her friend weak and upset she just wanted to run and give her a hug; stand by her as protection against whatever it was upsetting her. Was it Sita? Sita had never been aware she'd been upsetting Ingrid - but now that she'd thought of it she started to wonder if it was her own fault she'd been abandoned rather than just that of shortcomings she had no control over. Why did she always wonder why, anyway? Why was her whole life questions? Why was she always needing to know the answers?

And then this feeling of wanting to protect her friend... wasn't that just like keeping her in a bubble too? It might not be a physical bubble of worrying and restricting... but it was an emotional one. Still, Ingrid had succeeded in throwing off her friend from doing precisely what most friends would do in lending comfort: Sita had remained completely aloof and the only sign it had bothered her at all was the struggle evident in her eyes, which were cast to the ground, and the fact she shifted uncomfortably sitting on the cold, hard mud. Sita listened to what Ingrid was saying, struggling to absorb it all. It just didn't all make sense. And for once it wasn't just that Sita couldn't 'get it', like with things such as maths, and had to have it explained to her repeatedly; it was that she had a different outlook on the matter than Ingy. She was not Ingy and did not know what it felt like to be Ingrid Lewis. She was perhaps the next closest to knowing in the world though. She had now what her dad would call 'a sensible opinion from a detached viewpoint': it might seem clear enough to her but she wasn't living the experience. That was what he said the people at the Ministry who set Muggle-related legislation had. But she wasn't detached from Ingy... at least she hadn't used to be.

"But..." Sita began, pretty much summarising her entire viewpoint in that one word, "Secrets are more frightening than anything. I'm more afraid of losing you as a friend than you could ever make me be with what you told me. You know they say 'Where there's life, there's hope'? Well, where there's friendship there's hope, and any problems shared we can cope with, but if we carry on avoiding each other more and more... we just lose everything. Is that really less scary than confiding in me? It bothers me much more..." She looked up at her friend, meeting those eyes which she had so often seen sparkling with mischief, and found her voice breaking as she continued, "But I wouldn't turn into your mum... I couldn't. I'm me, I don't tell you what to do, I... I follow you. And besides," she added, recovering some of her usual vibrancy and self-derision for others' amusement, "I'm not as well-organised or clever. Your mum knows everything." Sita couldn't be jovial enough to look at Ingrid as well as maintaining a lighter tone of voice. Instead she picked up a leaf on the ground, and started to shred it into green and yellow pieces. The veins didn't come apart as easily as the rest of it, and when she'd ripped through one of those she instantly regretted it. She picked up another leaf, this one fully yellow, and started to strip everything off until only the veins were left. Everything that kept it together was still there, but all the substance was gone. Sita twizzled the pitiful limp stalk in her fingers.

"What was he other half of the reason you didn't come over much in the summer?" she asked.

[Ingrid Lewis H4]

Ingrid sat there, wondering if maybe it was stupid of her to do anything about this. Maybe she should have just pretended like nothing had happened over the summer and return to the way things were before she was in the hospital. Maybe then there wouldn’t be this trouble that made Ingrid’s stomach churn. Sometimes Ingrid wished she could go back in time and erase whatever it was that she did that caused an avalanche of events. Ingrid knew that was almost as probable as all Slytherin purebloods getting over the whole Muggleborn thing. Ingrid sighed and rubbed her hands together, trying to keep warmth between them. Even in semi-warm temperatures Ingrid was rather freezing. She often wondered if it was because of her anemia. Then again, Ingrid often wondered if a lot of her problems she had were because of her anemia; sometimes she even blamed them on it and she knew that was wrong and not fair in the least bit. It had become habit by now, though.

As Sita began talking, Ingrid kept her eyes on the ground; afraid to look up at her best friend. They were still best friends weren’t they? Ingrid didn’t want to stop being best friends; losing Sita as a best friend would be like losing a piece of her heart. Sita was always there for her, with her, or was just there and it was something Ingrid had begun to depend upon. Perhaps Ingrid should have just told Sita everything and let Sita help her get over it, because then they might not be in this predicament and neither of them would feel terrible. Ingrid lifted her eyes as Sita began another sentence with ‘but.’ They locked eyes and Ingrid listened as Sita explained how she could never be Ingrid’s mum. Then she seemed to get a little bit of herself back and stated that Ingrid’s mum knew everything. Ingrid smiled softly; “Yes, well, she could be more educated in a few areas…. Such as allowing her twelve year old daughter to grow up a bit.” Ingrid shrugged, that was another thing to work on at another time.

Ingrid watched her friend a moment as she picked up some leaves and began to strip them of the actual leaf part. Then she looked back down at the ground. First year was so easy, so uncomplicated and second year was turning out to be her least favourite year. It would probably be that way for years to come. Unless she completely turned it around, but that would take a whole lot of work and Ingrid wasn’t so sure she could turn everything around. She wanted to get back to the way she was with Sita, and deep down she wondered if that were even possible. Of course, it was completely possible from her point of view – but if Sita wanted to go back to the way they were.. that was something Ingrid wasn’t too sure about. Finally, the silence between the two was broken with Sita’s question. Ingrid looked up at her friend and shrugged; “I was afraid things would be too hard , I suppose. Too hard to get out of the house to start with. I wasn’t allowed to leave the house unless Mark was with me, or her or daddy. And…. I didn’t know how everything would be. To me it felt like my world was completely upside down and I was afraid that you would be topsy turvy as well. It was frightening, Sita. I guess I’m just a big scaredy cat.” Ingrid smiled softly, thinking that a couple of years ago she would have laughed. Ingrid, scared? When was that ever true? Now it was more true than ever before.

“As for secrets, I guess I never thought of it that way. Of course I don’t want to lose you, and my intention was never to avoid you… I just, I don’t know. Everything fell apart.”