Aoife McGuire
Clearing my head
Wed Jul 2, 2014 16:29

Aoife’s head was all over the place.

Everything was closing in on her, making it hard to breath- never mind think. She had not felt so claustrophobic at RMI since her earliest days. The first year who cried into her pillow at night was gone, since the sniveling child’s demise RMI had been a safe haven,a refuge. The months there finally brought some space from her parents and time to spend with her friends, with Cal. That was how she had expected things to remain and yet she here she was. Sitting by the edge of the pool, all plans of a swim forgotten, yearning for the chance to ‘spread her wings’ as they say.

Aoife had never been overly academic, in the majority of her subjects she made passable grades but it was in Potions alone that she excelled. She had seriously considered ending her education without completing seventh year. There was only one thing holding Aoife back. She was still waiting on the epiphany which would allow her to realise what her lifelong dream had been all along. Until then Aoife was stuck and anyway, her parents would be so disappointed if she gave up on her schooling. Her own dad had left at the young age of fifteen without a single qualification to his name.

It was by luck, he happened to know a mechanic who was willing to take him on for training. He’d still worked for Gerry Donnelly up until their little family relocated. There was no point using his journey to prove education was unnecessary. “Education is power”, he told her each time he’d had a few beers too many. Then before she had the sense to stop him, he would recount the sorry tale of his childhood. No encouragement from his parents, branded a lost cause by the system, the inequality which thrived in those days. The odds had been stacked against him, but Aoife, Aoife had a chance.

After, her mum would then proceed to remind her daughter of the sexism within some pureblood circles. Her parents had not thought of her as anything more than a vessel to keep the pure genes alive- not that Margaret had done a very good job.

How could Aoife compete with their sob stories? Even thinking about it made her feel ashamed to even consider dropping out.

The Cetus poked her toe into the water. Then with one heavy sigh, she slipped in, allowing the water to surround her. Her red locks were pulled back into a scruffy bun, and clashed with her scarlet swimwear.

Searching for a distraction, she sought out one of the only other people present and smiled.

“Race you?”

    • I like your headAman Shah, Mon Jul 7 21:33
      Aman was very bad at sports. It didn't matter what sport, but he had yet to find a sport he excelled at. He played Quidditch to make his parents happy, although now that he never saw them, he hardly... more
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