Under a Willow Tree

Willow stood in front a huge iron wrought gate that separated her from a long, cobblestone driveway. Her eyes followed the driveway as it led up to a handsome Victorian-era manor that stood with so much grandeur and beauty, it put the Queen's royal quarters to shame. A soft breeze blew her hair slightly, as she tugged nervously at her red cardigan sleeve. The gate suddenly swung open, causing her to jump at the creaking sound of its hinges. Taking a deep breath and picking up her luggage, Willow made her way inside.

The sleepy village of Windsor was a drastic change for Willow. Coming from a dingy, little suburban home in the middle of London, Willow didn't know what to expect when she was told she was going to be moving in with her great Aunt. As Willow dragged her luggage up the driveway towards the manor, she recalled the day her father came home and told her his plan for her moving in with her great Aunt all the way in the country:


Willow sat across her father and stepmother in the little table in the kitchen one afternoon. Her stepmother was pouring her father and herself a cup of tea, and then roughly placing an empty cup in front of Willow.

"Darling, haven't you always wanted to attend university?" Her father asked her, right after he revealed the news to her.

"No, I don't." Willow replied, stubbornly.

"Don't kid yourself. We all know how long you've been wishing to go to university. I, for one, never believed in you; but I suppose I was wrong." Her stepmother retorted.

"That's enough, Stella." Willow's father snapped at her stepmother. He turned back to Willow, "This is a great chance for you to get the education you need to become a doctor. Think of how good it would be for us when you get your first real job. And besides, you don't want to stay in this hideous bungalow, now don't you?"

Willow bit her lip as she looked around her home. "The smell has been getting more appalling each day..." She mused. "I guess staying with Aunt Ariana won't hurt."

"Excellent." Her father said, placing a kiss on her forehead.

"But what if I don't like it there? What if she hates me?"

"Well, why would she ever hate you? I find you to be a very charming young lady." Willow's father replied. In the background, Stella snorted, before he gave her a dirty look.

"I don't know. I've always thought that rich people who lived out in the country were snobby and rude." Willow shrugged, then quickly added, "But then again, there's Stella, too."

Stella slammed her cup of tea on the table, furiously, and scowled at Willow. Fortunately, the cup was not filled up to the brim, for if it was, Willow would have to mop up the mess.

"Willow, trust me, Aunt Ariana will absolutely love you." Her father said, completely oblivious to what had just happened.

Without saying anything else, Willow nodded.

Wiping the sweat from her brow, Willow looked up at the manor that stood so elegantly before her. In front of the manor, there was a large stone fountain and two black cars were parked around it. Willow took her stuff and approached the front door. Halfway there, the big mahogany doors opened up. A tall, graceful woman appeared by the threshold, her arms wide open.

"Willow, doll," She called out, half-running towards her great niece. "You've finally arrived." She gave her a big hug, before letting go and saying, "Look at you. You're a mess. Don't tell me you walked all the way up here. I swear I told Elias to pick you up at the gate - never mind that. Come in, come in. You can leave your belongings, I'll get Florence to bring it to your bedroom."

"I hope I wasn't bothering you, Aunt Ariana. It looks like you have company." Willow remarked, looking back at the two black cars as she and her Aunt entered the manor.

"Company? No, those cars belong to your Uncle Peter. He needs them for later." Aunt Ariana replied. At the foyer, Uncle Peter met them with a jolly smile.

"Is that really Willow? My, you've grown older." Uncle Peter said.

"Of course, Peter, how else would you grow?" Aunt Ariana replied for Willow.

"Well, surely you could always grow up," Uncle Peter said, raising his eyebrows. "Anyway, Willow, how old are you?"

"Eighteen." She answered.

"Eighteen? I'm pretty ancient by now. The last time I saw you, you were -" Uncle Peter was suddenly interrupted by Aunt Ariana.

"That's a beautiful life story, Peter, but Willow must get dressed. We haven't got time before we get going."

"Dressed? I don't understand. Where are we going?" Willow asked, bewildered.

"Well, your Uncle and I made an appointment at your new school today. You're going to be taking a tour." Aunt Ariana replied.

"A tour? But I already read through its catalogue and besides, I've got nothing to wear." Willow protested.

"Willow, child, you're very much like your grandmother; always making excuses. Now come. I made sure to go shopping before your arrival." Aunt Ariana said, leading her up the grand staircase. She followed her Aunt to the second doorway on their left. Inside, she noticed that the room had been inexplicably decorated for a girl her age. The walls were painted sky blue and the bedding had matched the draperies and the rugs. Willow was sure that her great Aunt and Uncle had hired a designer to fix her room up for her, because everything in the room contradicted the interior of the rest of the manor. Without a second glance around the room, her Aunt hurriedly walked over to the new wardrobe and chose a new outfit for her niece.

"Saw this when we went shopping in London the other day. I thought it would be perfect for your first impressions." Her aunt said, holding up a white spring dress and a yellow cardigan.

Looking at the dress, Willow managed a smile. "It's pretty, Aunt Ariana, but it seems a bit too..."

"Too what?"

"Well, I think it's too young for me. I'm eighteen; don't you think I'd look better with..erm..." Willow rummaged through the wardrobe for a more appealing outfit, until she pulled out a navy blue shirt dress. "This looks good."

"Yes, I suppose.." Her Aunt Ariana mused, squinting her eyes to evaluate the dress more efficiently.

"Great. I'll settle with this then."

"What about your shoes? And won't you like stockings with that dress? I think it would look adorable with a red headband -"

"Thank you, Aunt Ariana. You can leave it from here. I'll be dressed in a few minutes." Willow said, pushing her aunt from out of the room.

"Are you sure? I can have Florence come in and help you out." Her aunt suggested, once Willow closed the door.

"No, thank you." Willow called back.

Just as Willow mentioned, she descended down the staircase to where her great aunt and uncle waited. She had worn the navy blue dress that she chose and fixed her dark hair into a neat braid.

"Don't you look just splendid?" Aunt Ariana praised, handing her a red overcoat.

"Exquisite," added Uncle Peter. "Well, I only stayed to see you two off. I have to be going now."

"Oh, yes, see you at dinner," Aunt Ariana replied, pecking Uncle Peter on the cheek.

"You're not coming with us?" Willow asked, as Uncle Peter gave her a hug.

"Unfortunately, I have to get to work at this moment. But I'm sure you'll have a fun time while at the university. Your aunt and I went there last week and I think it was rather enjoyable."

"A tour around a campus being enjoyable? I don't think that's really possible," Willow said.

"Don't worry," Uncle Peter shook his head, as he made his way out the door with his coat and hat in hand. "The Dean of Admissions, Mr. Prescott, he's a nice man - oh! Time flies rather quickly. Can't stay any longer to chat; I really have to go. I'll see you later tonight, Willow, and we can talk all about it, yes?"

"Okay." Willow answered as she waved her great Uncle Peter goodbye and watched him get into one of the black cars that parked by the fountain. Once the two black cars drove out towards the black gate, another car pulled up in front of the manor where Aunt Ariana and Willow stood. Willow looked around to see where on earth had the car come from because the manor did not seem to have a car garage within miles. When she couldn't seem to find one, she looked back at the car and noticed how elite it looked.

"Aunt Ariana," she spoke, just as the two were getting inside the car.

"Yes?"

Willow's eyes flickered mercilessly around the interior of the car and thought of how her father's house cost only a third of the leather that her great aunt's car was covered with. "If you don't mind me asking, is this the only car you and Uncle Peter own?"

Aunt Ariana let out a little laugh. "No, of course not. We've got a few, probably just a dozen, if I can recall. Those two cars your uncle left in, well, he owns that. And I own this beautiful Jaguar and about two others. Your Uncle Peter is quite the automobile enthusiast. Don't get me started on how many cars he's owned."

"They must cost alot."

"Yes, I suppose they do."

Willow opened her mouth to speak again, but decided against it. As the car began to move, she contemplated on the life she now had before her. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was sure as hell not going to be something she was used to.

___________________________________________________________________________________

"CUT!" Shouted the director from across the room. "Cut, cut, cut! TOM! What are you doing?"

Tom stood where he was at, completely dumbstruck. Everyone on the set grew silent once the camera stopped rolling. "Er...Acting?"

"No, you most certainly aren't!" The director said, storming his way across the set towards Tom. "What's going on, son? You were so good earlier. Have you lost that passion, that charisma, that ingenuity that you always seem to bring on?"

"I-I don't know, sir." Tom replied, though his attention didn't seem to be focusing on his director or his cast mates. His eyes glanced frequently over to the crew members, causing him to send waves of melancholy through his body.

"Just..." His director tried to speak, but he let out a heavy sigh instead. Once he gained back his composure, he said, "Just take a rest for the day. We'll finish this scene tomorrow. I expect better from you, Thomas."

"Yes, sir." Tom nodded quickly and then dashed out of the set towards the trailer where he normally got his make up done. Inside, he found his friend, Georgia, sitting around toying around with his cellphone.

"Work over?" Georgia asked once he furiously got inside the trailer.

"No." Tom said, then he went over to his friend and snatched his phone from her. "What are you doing with this? Haven't I ever told you to lay off my stuff? Jesus Christ, what's wrong with people these days? No, wait, I know. You know what's wrong with them? They take your stuff and then they tear it up and trample it all over the bleeding floor and stamp on it with their fancy stiletto heel that's worth nothing more than a corroded piece of shit, and then they look at you like they've done nothing wrong and that nothing has ever happened and you're left there to clean up the mess you didn't make even after all the things you did to avoid making that specific mess!" Tom was breathing heavily, filled with so much rage that could move a mountain. He collapsed on the makeup chair and stared indignantly at himself in the mirror. Georgia stared at him, completely awe stricken and too afraid to move or speak. After a few moments, Tom cooled down and spoke again.

"Sorry, Georgie. I just had a horrible day today. I don't understand what's gotten into me."

"It's Jade, isn't it?" Georgia asked.

"What?" Tom spun around in his chair to face her. "No, no way."

"Oh, come on. No one could ever believe you."

"I swear it's not about her." Tom defended.

"Sure it isn't. I'm sure she hasn't grabbed your heart and tore it apart like some useless shit and trample all over it with the heel of her Dolce and Gabanna stiletto or whatever brand she prefers."

"Okay, first, she prefers Chanel. And second, she wouldn't ever do that to me."

"Thomas Andrew Felton, " Georgia said, shaking her head shamefully. "When will you ever learn to move on? This isn't the first time she's ever done that to you. You think no one knows, but I do. You think this whole on-again, off-again relationship is exclusively private, but I'm your best friend. I'm bound to find out anyway without you telling me."

Tom let out a shallow sigh. "How did you find out?"

"I can always read you. Whenever you come over to my place after your date with that evil witch, I can see how upset you would look. You try to hide it, but truth is that you aren't that good."

"Just don't tell anyone about it. I've got Jade to worry about for now; I don't need a whole entourage hunting me down asking me a million questions about this and thinking I'm a complete git."

"I don't understand why you can't just let her go? Haven't you gotten enough of her?"

"It's not that easy." Tom's voice suddenly grew hard and solemn. "I've actually never felt this way before and it's one of the greatest things I've ever felt. I can't just throw it away."

"Even if this 'great feeling' is with the wrong girl?" Georgia asked. She bore her eyes into Tom's baby blues, anticipating an answer, but he remained quiet. Maybe Georgia was right. Maybe Jade was the wrong girl. Tom thought about this for a moment and then said, "I don't believe in that shit. We're going to work this out and it'll turn out just fine."