The worst day ever - Part 1: 1911

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(Newt's P.O.V.)

I couldn't sleep again last night. I've been worrying about Dad too much. Amber's got a point, worrying does feel like you're suffering twice, or, whatever it was. I'm not that hungry so I only nibble at my toast. Not sleeping has given me a headache too.

Suddenly, I hear the post coming. I look up and recognise Mum's owl among the others. She's called Clover. Clover flies over to me and holds her leg up, revealing a letter written in Mum's neat handwriting. My hands shake as I open it. It reads:

Dear Newt,
I'm sorry to tell you this but your father's illness won the battle.

I stop reading and stare at Mum's handwriting, the words becoming blurry. Clover looks up from the toast she was eating and walks over to me. She nuzzles into my neck, like she always does when I'm upset, but this time I push her away. This can't be happening! Dad's gone! I feel tears well up in my eyes as I get up to leave. This is horrible!

I run outside into the courtyard and slide down the wall in despair. I cry into my knees, wishing that Dad was still alive, wishing he'd never gotten ill, wishing this had never happened. I hear the sound of running feet as I finish. I have a feeling I know who it is.

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