Kevin Entwhistle (bentwhistle) wrote in eighth_rpg, @ 2011-01-29 22:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | kevin entwhistle |
Who: Kevin Entwhistle
What: Insomnia
Where: Kevin’s bedroom
When: January 29, 1999
Rating: Average
Kevin had made important decisions during the war and in the weeks that immediately followed its end. Decisions he wasn’t sure if he should continue now, as he lied on his bed unable to sleep. He had forgotten what this had felt like, it had been so long.
When he and his sister were released from Azkaban, they immediately returned to their parents’ home in Preston. He remembered standing on the step of his childhood home, watching the shadow of his parents opening the door. Their weariness was reflected on all four faces. The last time Mr. and Mrs. Entwhistle had seen either of their children had been shortly before Christmas, almost five months earlier.
Up until that point, Andrew and Maureen had assumed their son Kevin had been enrolled in his final year at Hogwarts and their overworked daughter Shannon had not been writing home as frequently as they would have liked. In fact, when she did, her handwriting had seemed off and the postmarks on the letters had been scattered all across the UK. They had no idea that the correspondence had been fake, forged by Kevin from the various towns he had stopped in since early September.
Since the evening that he returned home to his sister’s London to find it ransacked and empty, Kevin had been on the run. But each night, when he tried to fall asleep at whatever random place he was holed up in for the evening, Kevin wondered how to handle the situation with their parents. He couldn’t just write a letter saying “Oh by the way, your daughter’s been sent to prison and now they might be looking for me too.” He had turned seventeen the previous February, making him an adult in the eyes of Wizarding Law. He was pretty sure he was on a list somewhere, accused of a crime none of them had committed.
So he lied. Sent letters sporadically filled with stories of Shannon traveling for work. Occasionally he wrote a few in his own handwriting as well, mentioning coursework and other things he was not participating in. Finally, days before the Hogwarts Express had been scheduled to arrive, Kevin managed to make his way home. When he arrived, snowflakes melting into his hair as he stood outside, watching the lit Christmas tree from the street, Kevin knew he had a lot of explaining to do.
That evening he and his parents stayed up half the night while Kevin confessed what was really going on. His father paced the room, raising his voice on occasion. His daughter, the apple of his eye, was in prison! His mother grew small into herself, her fingers nervously rubbing the cross around her neck. “This is my fault,” she uttered. “I handed my children to the devil and the Lord is punishing us now.”
Kevin’s hands began to sweat, his eyes pleading with his father. These were the same sort of words she spoke when Shannon had first been accepted at Hogwarts. “It’s not your fault, mum. Something’s going on in the Wizarding world right now. Whoever is in charge of the government now is changing all the rules. The problem is that there are lot of people who are suporting the changes. But I think it’s because they are afraid to disagree.” There was so much that Kevin didn’t understand about the current political climate.
The conversation went back and forth for quite awhile, until Mr. Entwhistle finally guided his wife to bed. When Andrew came back downstairs, he could see from the look on his son’s face that he would not be staying in their home for very long. “It’s dangerous for me to stay,” Kevin said, looking his father in the eye. “For me, but also for both of you.” It was the first time to two of them had spoken together as men before and after a moment Mr. Entwhistle nodded.
“Take a shower, get a good night’s rest. I’ll make sure your mother doesn’t see you leave.” He knew how hard it would be for them both. “I’ll do my best to help her understand why.” The father and son embraced before Kevin took the stairs back to his old room. Mr. Entwhistle retreated to the kitchen, readying a bag of supplies for his son. He would not let Kevin go out there unprepared. But halfway through his packing, Mr. Entwhistle had to sit down, the weight of the situation overwhelming him. He felt weak, knowing there was nothing he could really do. He had failed as a father, unable to protect either of his children.
Kevin slept well that night for the first time in months. But not without a little help.