My name is Chris, or at least that's what’s written on the cover of my diary. I do not remember who I am or why I am here. When I woke up on the hard, rocky ground, this leather, unfilled diary was the only thing I was holding, together with a pencil. The year isn't noted on the front, back, or anywhere else on or in the book. I counted how many pages the book has, a hundred. “What the?” I look around the cave, still half sitting down. “Who the hell are you?” I am currently

Lara steadied her legs and rolled her neck. She glanced behind her shoulder as sparks flew from beside her, illuminating the side of her face. Concentrate, she reminded herself. ‘Flavus!’ she shouted firmly. Her voice echoed, joining the ever-growing crescendo of chants. Nothing emitted from the wand held aloft in her hand. She sighed. Her eyes turned towards her peers, all doing the same thing. She corrected her back in the same way their backs were arched. Legs three paces

Leila was sitting with her chin in her hands. Her eyes tracked the progress of a bee as it flew around a flower before finally settling inside it. ‘Who are you waiting for?’ Leila looked up suddenly, startled by the sudden voice. An old man was staring down at her, his eyes crinkled by the sides and his face solemn. ‘Oh,’ Leila cleared her throat, sitting up. ‘I’m just waiting for my friend.’ The man nodded and sat down on the other bench. Leila twisted her fingers in her lap