UK, time of nowadays. 8 o' clock p. m. Day's going to be over, being evening yet. You come back home from College Middle School after a full day of hours spent between lessons and sports as everyday for 5-6 days a week. So you're tired. Damned bad bloody F taken with maths test, you have always known it's not a good thing for you on the contrary, the worst. Nevertheless you know very good you were smart to copy each answer to all those tragic questions for your ability from papers of your best friend he always sits more beside your desk than how it's possible. So you're sadly afraid too for an eventual reaction of your parents. So, you don't waste an instant of your time to take in flight the rightest chance to go soon and early to bed running away from the other sights.
In a bleak foggy stormy mid-autumnal morning, you find yourself in a train station, ready to enter in a wagon yet. Arrived, it stopped each of his movement. So, you enter and across all of it arriving finally to find and sit in a free seat of those behind in the depths of it. You are all alone. So, it's departing now and doesn't still stop now in his going on. Suddenly, something happens, it stopped but in a strange way like, maybe it's going in tilt. His doors are been opening by windy and noisy blows. So, you're catapulted outside of those woody walls and you realise to be cut away in another one reality, new, strange. You are in a track, full of stones and not still asphalted. You look ahead to the sky to see if it's different too and it's so strange, full of bats, crows and other similar creatures they live that time of the day, being a moment after the sunset and before the dawn, but unusual, being a twilight, a night yet, it particular in the same way. There's a moonlight, it differs too. It seems particularly fluorescent, milky, cloudy. So, later, suddenly, your sight goes to other directions, falling down and poses upon a dark picture, punctually unnatural. You lose many time to understand what it would be. But at the end you note it's a castle and feel another too paranormal weight and shadow upon and in front of you. It's a hat and a long black coat, a wizard heat and coat, maybe bigger than you too. You hear some voice, transcendent too. They seem spiritual voices. They say: "It's late, move on, baby wizard!" You start to run towards the castle like crowds do. You follow them, you follow their trail. There's a drawbridge and a moat. It's full of water. Doors are open, ready to be gone through by crowds they is amassing out of them. You enter and it seems golden age is coming back. Precious chandeliers, everywhere, high walls and ceilings, red carpets, two spiral staircases toward square mezzanine library which faces down to it, flowers of various types. Moved on by a vast curiosity, you don't make your feet stop. So, you prosecute to walk and you find yourself in a stratospheric mess. Woody long tables and chairs. Holly and candle as the last decorations ready to make them better they are. Dark green walls and two other spiral staircases they bring to upper floors. Many Christmassy trees. You pursue in your discoveries and later many rooms you arrive to a colossal library. It's biblical, an Odyssey, more cyclopean than same trip, a real epopee. It's your favourite place, as always, but this the best, in absolute. Rooting around various open wardrobes and shelves, you remain stolen by a big book, a real heavy brick, with a blue cover, with golden paintings and words, in a grotesque style, as near to gothic, maybe it, maybe no, maybe, maybe you don't know, you don't know. It's hard for you to decode each singular world but at the end you pick up: "Dark Arts". You turn around cover to first page and start your lecture. Being tired with sight, you end what you're doing, close book and take again your walk within it, hidden in your coat. Passed doors, someone gives you a wizard wand, a magical silver wand and brings you to choose among four options. Being golden colour your favourite colour, you opt for Gryffindor but, before to go there, you have some lesson and some proof to live. After lesson in Dark Arts classroom you, with many other children, are going to another sublime place for proofs. While you're going there, you fall down and you notate a bad bloody hurt it soon becomes a scar on right temple. Maybe an arrow, maybe a powerful arrow. It bleeds, it bleeds a lot.
It's then you finds yourself in your own home as if anything of this were happened before.
During breakfast time, you sit at the table with your parents. While you're eating a toast, some omelette, 2 pieces of bacon and drinking a mag of warm cider, being a Sunday of wintertime, and talk about different speeches, your mother asks to you: "Darling, what's happening there? It's bleeding your temple!" Indicating it. You touch there and go to your room to watch it at mirror: it's an arrow, an arrow bad bloody scrape.
Is it been only slumber jokes or realities?
You don't know.
Suspense.

Writers from hell:

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