Raconteurs

Bowled Over

2013-07-17T04:40:00.000-07:00

Hey Readers! Here's a story that I posted onto my other page a few months ago. It's a story based in the world of Harry Potter created by JK Rowling. Everything you recognize belongs to her. The stunning banner is made by Idioteque@ TDA!

Five Gryffindor girls crept down the corridors of Hogwarts at a time when they should have been fast asleep on their four poster beds. They were lugging bats, wickets and cricket balls. It was pitch black and Pippa cast a Lumos spell, being the only one among them who currently possessed a wand. Sneaking out of bed was an exciting feeling and the seventh year girls couldn’t help grinning at each other as they made their way to the Room of Requirement.

“I feel like James Bond,” Pippa told her friends, suddenly.

“What’s a James Bond?” one of them asked and Pippa sighed.

“James Bond is a man,” she explained “He’s a secret agent working under the British Crown!”

The rest of the girls nodded enthusiastically. They all felt like crafty and mysterious secret agents prowling around Hogwarts.

“Pippa, what are you doing out of bed?” a small voice cut through the darkness. The girls froze, horrified at being caught. Pippa whirled around and found herself face to face with her eleven year old sister.

“Cho! What have I told you about following me around?” Pippa huffed sounding thoroughly annoyed, although a part of her was relieved that it wasn’t a Prefect or, even worse, Filch. The rest of the girls relaxed their rigid shoulders.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Cho Chang whispered and Pippa felt a tug of sisterly affection. Cho was small for her age. Her dark uneven fringe and Pippa’s old uniform that was two size too big didn’t help matters much. She gave off the impression of an angel who had no idea what she was doing on earth. Pippa sighed.

“What are you doing?” Cho asked curiously. This time one of Pippa’s friends replied.

“We’re going to play cricket in the Room of Requirement.”

Cho’s eyes sparkled. “So that’s what you’ve been doing every weekend!”

Pippa narrowed her eyes, “How do you know about that?”

I’m amazing at cricket!” Cho went on, blatantly ignoring Pippa’s question, “Please, please let me play with you!”

Pippa rolled her eyes.

“Cho, do you even know what cricket is?” she asked her sister.

“Of course!” Cho replied sounding like a typical self-assured Ravenclaw that she was. “It’s that game you taught me last summer. You know, swinging the bat and hitting a red ball...”

“Yes, yes,” Pippa replied waving her sister’s words away. “My point is, do you know how to play? The last time you tried the game, you gave our gardener a concussion.”

Pippa’s friends cringed ever so slightly. Cho pouted. “He was just standing in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she insisted “And if I remember correctly, that shot scored me six runs.”

“Not bad!” the other girls murmured. Pippa gnashed her teeth.

“Just go back to bed, Cho,” she snapped, irritated. Cho smirked.

“Why should I?” she asked with her voice echoing off the castle walls.

The other girls looked warily around to make sure that they were still alone.

“Keep quiet!” Pippa hissed.

“Not until you let me play,” Cho shot back, jutting her chin out stubbornly.

Pippa was about to tear her hair out when another friend intervened. “Pippa, just let the girl play,” she whispered, “before she wakes up the whole castle with her tantrums.”

Pippa sighed. Once Cho set her mind on something, there was no stopping her. She was going to play cricket with them whether Pippa liked it or not.

“Fine,” Pippa relented “you can play with us.”

Cho beamed. “My team will win for sure!” she said happily. Pippa mentally berated herself for not bringing along a first-aid kit. With Cho now playing, they were definitely going to need one.

“Come on,” she hissed to the other girls as she continued walking, “We don’t want anyone else discovering us.”

The party soon reached the Room of Requirement which modified itself to become a cricket stadium at the girls’ request. Cho’s jaw dropped at the sight of it.

“How- how does it do that?” she spluttered and Pippa grinned. Making Cho speechless was a herculean task in itself. She might as well enjoy the satisfaction of knowing something that her little sister didn’t. As much as Pippa hated to admit it, Cho was the brainiac among the two Chang daughters. Pippa just had the great looks, or so she thought.

The girls walked in, shielding their faces from the brilliant floodlights. They quickly divided themselves into two teams with the Chang sisters on either side for safety measures. Blowing up the room for a small spat was something the both the teams couldn’t afford.

Soon the game began. Pippa’s team was chosen to bat. Cho was the first bowler, but after a couple of balls it seemed that Cho had missed what bowling meant- that the batsman (or batswoman, in this case) should hit the ball and the not the other way around! So Cho was put as a fielder in the deepest corner of the grounds, as far away as possible from the game, much to her chagrin. She sulked with such intensity that if the field was made of milk, it would have curdled immediately. Since the field was, as usual, made of grass, Cho had to resign herself to picking the blades out of the soil one by one.

Pippa’s team finished batting with a score of 20 runs, which was spectacular for their three person team. Cho scoffed. This meant a sure shot win for her team. In fact, she was sure that she could score twenty runs herself. Much to her horror, Cho wasn’t chosen as the first batsmen, or the second. She was to bat last. Grumbling, she sat on the sidelines, but could not remain unhappy for long. She cheered as her two teammates ran from one wicket to another. Amidst the shrieks of joy, tears of laughter and the general commotion, none of the girls noticed that the door to the Room of Requirement was ajar....

“Oi, little Chang!” one of Pippa’s friends yelled. Cho looked up, annoyed. What kind of a nickname was that?

“It’s your turn to bat,” the girl yelled again. Finally! Cho sprang up from the bench and, clutching the wooden bat, strutted to the pitch. She made sure to swing her bat and throw in a few punches like those cricketers she’d seen on that muggle contraption. Velletision, was it?

Anyway, after what seemed like an ample showing off, Cho turned to face the bowler. It was Pippa. Cho angled the bat and focused on the little red ball in Pippa’s hand. While everyone thought that Cho must be planning a strategic move in her head, the only thought that was running through it was her wish to have a fancy uniform- one of those bright red jerseys she’d seen the famous cricketers wear. She could match it with ruby earrings and that bracelet Mum had given her for Christmas. Oh and those shoes-

“What is going on here?!” a voice bellowed from the doorway. Six pairs of eyes turned in the direction of the sound. Argus Filch, the dreaded caretaker, stood there menacingly. For once, he was without his lifelong companion, Mrs.Norris.

“Students out of bed!” he snarled leeringly. One of Pippa’s friends actually whimpered.

Cho wasn’t scared, not even in the slightest. She was angry. How dare Filch interrupts them before she could even hit the first ball. That was plain rude and Cho did not tolerate rudeness. She was going to teach Filch a lesson. She shifted her attention to Pippa who was staring back at her. Bowl, Cho mouthed and Pippa looked at her in amazement. Do it! Cho mouthed again and Pippa hesitated wondering she was out of her mind. Shrugging, she tossed the ball in Cho’s direction resolving herself to face whatever the outcome.

As the ball spun towards her, all thoughts of jerseys and accessories flew out of Cho’s mind. She had to do this right, there was no room for error. She took her best swung and a crack sound was heard as the ball collided with her bat. The red ball soared in the air grabbing the attention of everyone in the room including that of Filch. Dead silence ensued. The ball menacingly zoomed towards the door and ...Merlin! Filch’s voice boomed in the Room of Requirement. The bat has hit its target successfully- Filch’s head. Oh! It had hit really, really hard!

The caretaker flew backwards and hit the floor with a thud. A large angry welt had already erupted on his forehead, growing purpler every second. Pippa and the other girls gaped at Cho.

“What are you staring at me for?” Cho yelled, “Run for you lives, ladies!”

One wonders what turned such a feisty character into a wallflower.

Restaurant Robbery

2013-01-17T03:17:00.001-08:00

The Silkworm was a fancy restaurant. It served fancy food in fancy plates to fancy people. I was their newest waitress and worked the cash till every Tuesday. I counted my lucky stars that I had clinched such a job.

One such Tuesday, everything was going as per usual. Mrs. Miller had returned her tomato soup twice and Mr. Aubergine was griping about the fabric of the tablecloth. The restaurant was lit in a dim glow and a soft violin played in the background. I stood at my usual position at the cash register, carefully watching the money that poured in. To my right, as it always did, stood a magnificent antique vase. The owner of the restaurant had told us that it was his family heirloom The priceless article was the apple of the owner’s eye. I was under the constant fear that I would break it.

Just then, the door swung open and an old lady strutted in. Her silver hair was coiffed and her dark blue suit was of an immaculate cut. She carried a large leather designer handbag. Despite her towering shoes, she managed to walk elegantly. That must have required a lot of practice. However, what really grabbed my attention was the enormous diamond necklace she wore around her neck. The large stones glittered violently in the room causing me to blink the purple spots out of my eyes. Everyone’s gaze was immediately locked onto that necklace, even Mrs.Miller’s tomato soup lay forgotten. The rest of the staff were practically groveling at her feet as if she was the Queen of England. I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. For some reason this whole thing felt wrong.

Suddenly the lights went off. The whole restaurant was pitch black. I couldn’t see a thing. Then, as quickly as it had gone, the lights came back. Everything was okay. Or so we thought.

A high pitched shriek echoed through the room. “My necklace is gone!” the old lady screamed, clutching at her throat. Surely enough her neck was bare, with the diamonds nowhere to be seen. There was a frantic search throughout the restaurant. The necklace could not have vanished into thin air. The old lady had in the meanwhile fainted, rather dramatically in my opinion. A shout came from the kitchens. “I’ve found it!” the cook cried holding the necklace in one hand and a masked man, our thief, in the other.

“He was hiding in the fridge,” explained the cook disgustedly, referring to the thief. The rest of the staff were trying to revive the old lady. As I returned her shoes that had been flung off her feet when she fell, I noticed a tattoo just above her ankle, an arrow within a circle. I frowned at the odd tattoo, but figured that she must have got it done a long while ago.

By the time the lady awoke, the police had arrived to take away the thief. With a breathless thank you, she shouldered her purse, adorned the necklace once again and made her way out. Heaving a sigh of relief, the staff went back to their respective positions. As I walked back to the cash register, I felt that something was missing. Turning to my right, I gasped in horror. The antique vase was gone! All that was left on its stand was a piece of paper with a single image. An arrow in a circle.

Gasp!

2012-12-12T07:03:00.001-08:00

It was a perfect night for a cricket match. The cloudless sky was sprinkled with stars that rivaled the blaring floodlights of the stadium. The air was cool and crisp, a regular feature in the month of December. The two teams were just getting ready to start the match and I was already bored. The rest of the crowd seemed to disagree with me though. They were jumping up and down with unconfined excitement. Holding colorful posters, they screamed and yelled for the attention of the cameras, climbing over one another when they received it. Popcorn and peanuts were thrown into the air, along with an occasional person. A man with garish face-paint was dancing on his chair. On the whole, it was utter chaos.

Soon, the match began. The first batsman had a very impressive score of five runs. As he was waiting for the next ball, a bang was heard among the stands and the dancing man fell to the floor. From halfway across the stand I could see the crowds milling and my intelligent mind came to a conclusion.

“Somebody has a gun!” the crowd screamed, voicing my thoughts. Panic shot through the crowds as they swarmed to the exit like angry bees attacking an intruder. What they did not realize, in their haste to leave, was they all could not exit the stadium at once. It was a mess. To avoid getting trampled on, I hid behind my chair, waiting for the commotion to die down. All the athletes were whisked away by beefy bodyguards leaving their fans to deal with the situation themselves.The shooter had mysteriously disappeared from the site and the police were stuck in traffic.

That was when I saw my golden opportunity. Amidst the torn posters, spilt food and strewn confetti, was a back exit. I couldn’t believe it! A completely empty exit just for me. I leaped over the rows of seats and sprinted towards it. It was too good to be true. As I made my way down the dark and narrow corridor, I suddenly heard footsteps behind me. Quickly I pressed myself to a wall. I felt a shadow pass me by whose owner’s silhouette in the moonlight nearly made my heart stop. It was a man. A man with a gun.

Halloween Special- The Banshee

2012-10-31T00:31:00.003-07:00

It was a cloudless night. The stars flooded the pitch black sky. As a draft of cold wind blew down the street, I pulled my jacket tighter around me. It was Halloween night, a night when the monsters of the underworld were free to roam the earth. Pfft. Those stories were best kept for scaring younger siblings. At my age, ghosts did not seem as scary as my exam results and report cards.

Although I did not believe in the significance of Halloween, I still used it as an opportunity for free candy. However, tonight my mom had other plans for me. I was to buy some pepper for my mom’s soup. She was brewing it for my Aunt Hilda who would be arriving shortly. Personally I had never met this Aunt Hilda before, but the way my mom was fretting over the soup, it seemed like she was someone to impress.

So here I was walking back home down the deserted street, clutching a bag of pepper. The rhythmic chirping of the crickets was beginning to make me feel a bit drowsy. Only a flickering streetlamp lit the street and my footsteps echoed in the dark. I shuddered. This was the typical setting for all those ghost stories I have heard. I scolded myself for being so cowardly. There were no such things as ghosts.

All of a sudden the crickets stopped chirping. I looked up to see a shadowy figure walking in front of me. I gulped, the figure made no sound and had managed to sneak onto the road. That cannot be good. The two of us walked in a tense silence before the figure abruptly stopped. My eyes widened in fear as the figure slowly turned around. The figure’s face was hidden under its black cloak but it pointed a bony finger at me. My heart nearly stopped. It was a banshee.

I tried to run but my feet were cemented to the ground. Hordes of ghosts and spirits rushed out from nowhere. My voice no longer existed. The last thing I heard as my vision blurred was the high pitched wail of the banshee. Then everything went black.

When I opened my eyes, I found myself sprawled on the road, the pepper still in my hand. There was no sign of the banshee. It was just me and the flickering streetlight. I laughed in relief, it must have only been a dream. As I quickly made my way home, my mother greeted me at the door. “Come and meet Aunt Hilda,” she said. I glanced at the old lady who sat on our couch. She gave me a strange smile and I froze. She was wearing the same cloak as the banshee. Could it be...?

Rattled

2012-10-15T01:59:00.002-07:00

It happened on a perfectly ordinary morning in a perfectly ordinary household. Ordinary for my family at least. My father was at his usual place at the dining table, his feet propped up on it, staring intently at the mug in his hand, wondering what to criticize about my mother’s coffee. My mother was in the kitchen singing to the ‘Golden Oldies’ coming on the radio at the top of her lungs. My little brother was pursuing his ‘artistic ability’ by drawing mustaches and beards on every face that appeared in the newspaper.

‘There is a rat in the attic!’ I shouted, bursting into this homely atmosphere. Immediately everyone abandoned whatever they were doing and stared at me. ‘A what?’ my mother said, tuning down the radio to hear what I was saying.

‘There is a rat in the attic!’ I said again sounding a bit more hysterical this time, ‘I heard it scurrying around in there and bump into walls!’ My mother shrieked and looked at my father.

‘Well don’t just stand there,’ she yelled. My father hurriedly jumped to his feet and straightened his glasses.

‘I’m going to need some help,’ he said in a slightly panicked way. This was the first time he had had to deal with a rodent in the house. ‘I’ll come!’ yelled my brother eager to touch any filthy, vile, creature in the universe.

‘Ivy better come too,’ my father continued, ‘after all, she heard the rat.’

‘But..’ I began in protest, but quickly quietened down after receiving a warning look from my mother.
‘Oh alright’.

It had become quite a funny scene now. My father was muttering in low tones to himself as we proceeded up the stairs to the attic, my brother wearing his ‘knightly attire’ which consisted of a metal pot on his head and clutching a large wooden spoon. Then there was me, slouching behind my brother, hands in my pockets, wondering how on earth I had gotten my self in such a situation. As soon as we reached the door of the attic, my father put a finger to his lips.
‘Here is the plan,’ he whispered ‘Ivy, you stay at the doorway and make sure that the rat does not go out through the door while your brother and I will catch the rat!’

On the count of three, my father thrust open the door and both he and my brother plunged into the room searching for the rat. After what seemed like endless clanging of metal and the howls of pain emitted from my father when my brother whacked his shoe with the spoon, the rat scrambled to the windowsill and plummeted down into the green ocean of our grassy backyard. I nearly got flattened when father sprinted down the stairs, my brother at his heels. Just then the window of the neighboring attic opened and the thin face of Samantha Jones framed by golden curls peeked out. ‘So you have a rat in your house?’ she smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm 'oh how sad!’

Samantha Jones was the daughter of two very rich people who wanted to live a ‘simple life’. She had moved from California and told tales of spending endless hours on the beach. To me she was nothing more than a snob. So, I shot her a filthy look and trudged down the stairs to where my mother was standing anxiously peering through the front window at my father and brother. Just then they entered the house. ‘We chased the rat out of our house!’ my father declared.

‘But where did it go?,’ asked my mother curiously.

‘Into Samantha Jones’ house!’ said my brother proudly.