Ben had, at the last minute, decided to return to the school. It was not like the wizarding community would truly give him a choice. A magical child had to be properly taught to control their power. They wouldn't allow someone like him to be out of their sights for too long. So little was understood about the magic of the old mask. Questions abounded but memory was a tricky thing. It came back little by little and it wasn't pleasant. He recalled it being like a horrible roller coaster you couldn't control or exit. Everything he had said, everything he had done... it was guided by an invisible hand.
"Bombarda!" He screamed while pointing his wand at the center of the pitch. "I ... said... Bombarda!"
Sparks sputtered from his wand the first time but the boy was thrown back in utter failure the second time. This spell worked when he was under the mask but it seemed he didn't have the proper focus or control without it. While it took everything from Ben... it gave him power. Sometimes he almost missed it. Feeling in control, confident, and powerful... it was so opposite of how he usually felt as a muggle-born among the wizards. Now even casting a spell hurt him, terrified him even.
"Damnit..," Ben whispered to himself as he sat up in the grass. "What happened to me here..."
His first taste of freedom came from this pitch. Ben ran for his life after his mind had been ripped apart. He knew nothing of himself, others, or... anything. It was nothing more than a mindless animal running from a threat. The deeper he went into the forest, the more he regained of himself. Running had always cleared his mind. Running was his outlet for staying in shape and sharpening the mind. A muggle technique but an effective one nonetheless. Being out on the pitch now had started as a run, but he had to come here and face his recent past. It wasn't working. He had avoided Bloom for months now, and he wondered how angry and hurt she would be when they inevitably crossed paths again. His other friends likely worried as well. Ben hurt for them but was unsure he could face them now after what he had become.
Tears silently streamed down Ben's face. He lowered his gaze to the grass with his long bangs falling in front of his face. Rumors must have been all over school. He wished there was a way to return to the way things had been before Easter. Back before the mask ever found itself on Ben. When life was... good. Life was falling apart now. All he could manage in the moment was to sit in the grass and cry.
Ben Eckenrode -viewtopic.php?f=169&t=381