Chapter Three Many years later, Thomas and I were married by a tall, pale young man with hollow cheeks. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was said to be extremely talented, and from a boarding school called Hogwarts. It was a beautiful, crisp winter morning, and the snow beneath my high heels crunched like M&MS. I wished I could flop down on that snow, that snow that was as white as Cirrus clouds, that snow that fell like pixie dust from the clear, forget-me-not blue sky. The delicate dew drops rested on the rich, green pine trees.
Despite this beauty, the wedding was rather strange. I thought that I heard Tom Riddle mutter something that sounded like, "Aguamenti", and the next thing I knew, I was hit in the face by a jet of water. Then, Tom Riddle said, "Sectum-sempra!" and Mrs. Sailboat was rushed to the hospital with blood squirting out of her face. And a stick kept poking out of Tom Riddle's pocket. What was especially creepy was that I saw Tom Riddle's eyes gleam red, and I thought I glimpsed a flash of green light.
Chapter Four Three years later, I gave birth to a baby. I gulped and listened to my speeding pulse as the doctors tested my baby for health problems. While I waited, I signed the birth certificate. Here is what it looked like when I was finished.
Hello Baby!
Female or Male?Male
Name:Squeajole Thomas Sailboat
Mother:Ginger Hannah Sailboat
Father:Thomas Grason Sailboat
Date:1950, June 12, 1:11 A.M.
It turned out that Squeajole, (as I had named him) was doing fine. But, as he got older, I began to notice something. Squeajole could not talk. He was fifteen years old now, and he could hum triumphantly or squeal nervously, but he was otherwise silent. However, he was content. If there was one thing he loved, it was science! He looked just how you might imagine a young scientist. He had short curly golden hair, a white lab coat with neon green stains, rectangular silver-rimmed glasses, and he always carried a book called Magnetic Nuclear Surfacing.
Chapter Five
I have two words for you. Vietnam War. Thomas had been asked to go fight. I had not been able to sleep since Thomas left, and the skin under my eyes had turned the color of Nimbus clouds. Every day, I rummaged the mailbox for letters from Thomas. The letters would include a long note and a check.
Chapter Six
One day, I received a letter. The cornbread was in the oven, and the ham and potatoes in the stewing pot. It was as if the delicious smell was warmly beckoning me to open the letter. My life had been a success so far. Little did I know that I was out of luck. I forced the envelope open.
Dear Ginny,
I have devastating news. I hate to destroy your heart, but somebody has to tell you. I know how much Thomas and you loved each other. There was an unbreakable bond between the two of you. It could only be broken by death. And it was. My dear, dear friend, Thomas' time is up.
Signed, Bansel Chaul
Bansel was a good friend from college. He was a soldier too. There must be some mistake! I desperately looked for a loophole out of this living nightmare. As I grieved, I got a job as an editor, and made enough money to support Squeajole and I.
Chapter Seven
Seven Years Later
Squeajole's college graduation was today. Squeajole was now 22 years old. The phone rang. It was Bansel Chaul, who taught at Squeajole's college. Bansel was overwhelming, and he had a voice like cake made with too much sugar. "Hey, Gin-Gin," Bansel said. He didn't sound like himself. It was as if a piece of that too-sweet cake was missing. "Squeajole was just rushed to the emergency room, his body all limp. They declared him out of life." I screamed.
Chapter Eight
The college professors told me to come to the scene of the murder. The college graduation was postponed. When I got to the E.R., two detectives were there. They were arguing about whether to scan the body for fingerprints. "No one would be stupid enough to leave fingerprints!" one declared. He had a brown comb-over, a firm mouth, and a name tag that said
Creanan Unlun. "I know, but just in case!" exclaimed the other. She had blonde pigtails, a cheesy smile with overdone lipstick, and a name tag that said
Lulu Sunshine. That's when I saw it. There was a stick in Squeajole's lap. It looked like Tom Riddle's. I had just finished the second Harry Potter book. In the book, Harry Potter finds out that Tom Riddle is actually a man called Lord Voldemort. Voldemort says a curse and points a stick at somebody to kill them. Who would have thought that a fiction story was true? Me, that's who! I told the college professors my theory.
Chapter Nine
That day, the professors of Squeajole's college confronted Tom Riddle. But Tom Riddle escaped, pointing his stick at several people and saying the death curse. Those people included my only friend left in the world: Bansel Chaul. Bansel collapsed to the floor, dead. I spend the rest of my days crying my eyes out, so I have to clean my glasses about every five minutes
Chapter Ten
I have no friends left in this world, and I am too busy avoiding Tom Riddle to make new ones.
I have installed security cameras in my home, though I'm not sure if it'll do any good. I often go to the costume shop so that I can buy disguises to stay under cover. Other than that and going to the grocery store, I never leave my house. Now I'm a grumpy old lady, and don't you dare try to make me change.