*This is a fanfic set loosely in the Whateley Academy series. That series is great. I'll edit this to add the real disclaimer that's supposed to be here when my internet is faster. This is going to move slowly and there is cursing. You have been warned.*
Chapter 1: The more you ask, the more I say
I woke up to darkness. It was Saturday. Through the night I'd felt as though there was something going wrong but I couldn't place it, quite. My head felt funny, like it had expanded. The soft glow of my computer's monitor could still be seen over my immobile feet from my vantage point at the head of the bed. It was a Saturday. I was sleeping in: it was around ten o'clock, though I normally woke up much later, closer to 12 or 1. I wish I remembered more ... it's really a blur what happened next. I have a tendency to block out my emotions. There was a knock at the door. I was crying and I couldn't understand why. The knock was soft and quailing. Through my sobs I couldn't hear the other person crying, but I knew they were, somehow. They entered the door. It was my aunt Lily, who lived four states away and was the most caring and least rational person I knew in my family, simultaneously. She believed in Wicca, though my own blasphemous atheist thoughts were tolerated nicely. Dabbing at her eyes she seemed almost like she couldn't talk, and choked before letting go with a single sentence:
"Rick and Gloria are dead."
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This story is 263 words long.
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