Characters: One very irrational ghost named Nick, lots of bodies, and one not dead Rita Skeeter
Got to...have to...Rita couldn't be dead. She couldn't be! This was not happening, this was not happening. I left the castle without further thought - I had to see for myself. I didn't tell Nora why, didn't even see her as I left. I needed to know...if Rita...just thought made me want to crumble right then and there. I couldn't handle this, not now. Not after everything. I could feel a break down coming; I could see myself locked away in a tower not wanting to see a soul for a few hundred more years.
The rioters couldn't have killed her. When I arrived I would not see her body on a stretcher - I wouldn't have to say goodbye to her corpse. Please, please God, please have spared her. Please, please...I swore that I would say a hundred rosaries if Rita Skeeter was not counted as amongst the dead.
When I arrived the island was in shambles. The Ministry was everywhere - wizards in dark robes and lit wands searching the rubble and wreckage of stone homes. People were crying, being questioned, being patched up by healers. I wasn't noticed right away but suddenly a witch with frizzy hair approached me, trying to push me back away from the scene. She tried to get me to go back to where I haunted but I insisted on staying - I asked her if she knew anything about the dead girl. She said she didn't and tried to move away, but I persisted. I told her that she might be my dear friend, that I needed to know for certain. Was her hair blonde?
She said she didn't know.
I was at a loss for what to do. Rita...god, why didn't anyone know anything? I pushed past her and wandered the smoldering timber and shattered stone, starting to assume the worst. She was gone. That was it. I would never see her again. She had been killed. I sat down by the edge of the rubble, far removed from the shrieking islanders and vacationers. I buried my head in my hands.
Please, God - Christ, Mary, St. Paul, St. Jude - anyone, please.