Shattered (Watty Awards 2011!)

Chapter 16

Hey-looo!

Busy busy busy right now. Who isn't?

Anyway, here you go. Sorry about the ending, please don't hate. These things happen for a reason. ;)

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Chapter 16

"Remind me why exactly we're doing this again?"

I glanced at Peter, who was leaning heavily on his cane. We were walking down the hallway towards the stairs after breakfast on Monday morning, getting ready to go down them.

"So you can show me the music room," I explained, mildly amused by his reluctance. "Your house is too big, so I can't find it myself."

He made a funny noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort.

I ignored it. "Plus, I think it would be good for you to get off the third floor for once."

He rolled his eyes and grabbed the nearby bannister.

"So, how exactly am I supposed to get down then?"

I sighed. "I said I'd help you. Don't you believe me?"

"This just seems like a lot of unnecessary bother to me."

"Don't you get sick of staying up here all the time? I'm sure I would."

"Yes, but then I think of attempting the stairs and think better of it."

I let out a long sigh. "You're being so difficult."

We stood at the top of the staircase, gazing down at the spiraling, gilded bannisters running the length to the next floor. Peter grabbed hold of one side and glanced at me.

"Sorry. I'm just a bit tired is all."

I felt a bit guilty. "I'm sorry too. Please tell me if you need to go back."

He simply nodded, staring down the staircase.

"So what's your plan then?"

"Oh. Well, I just thought I'd... help you get down."

"And exactly how do you plan on executing that?"

I frowned, realizing he was right. I hadn't thought it out too well. A flicker of worry materialized on my brain as I considered how highly inappropriate I was being. My aunt would be ashamed!

"Miss Butler?"

I had no idea what exactly I'd do. This was an awkward situation indeed.

"Emma?" I flicked my gaze back towards him, giving a brief half smile. "I'm unsure... I mean, perhaps this isn't-"

"The best idea," I finished quietly. I needn't turn to know he had nodded his head as I finished.

"Ask Harry to show you the music room later, perhaps."

"Yes. Perhaps I... I shall." I felt very foolish for my previous display of exuberance. What must he think of me?

Peter turned, leaning on his cane. "I'd like to be left alone for the rest of the afternoon, please."

I didn't answer. I wasn't quite sure what caused the sudden change in his voice. I just didn't know what to say.

"Hello?" He turned to me, a hard look in his eye. His tone, however, was softer.

"Yes. Yes, that's fine."

He left the landing in slow, halting steps. I stood, firmly planted to the spot, wondering what on earth had just happened.

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That small, seemingly insignificant episode was the beginning of the end for me. It seemed to set off a chain of events that, to this day, I do not fully understand.

The next morning I received a prompt knock on my door, and a flustered Mrs Dinsmoore informed me that my presence at the house was no longer required. She handed me my pay for the week and asked me to leave that same morning.

Methodically, I packed my bags, shock barely penetrating my body but clenching my mind in a sturdy grip.

What happened? my head screamed. What did you do? seemed to echo off every wall.

The truth, however hidden at that time, would eventually become apparent.

And they began to become so after a certain man knocked on my door, two days later.