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Ramblings of a Nutter

Twitchy Kist

Summary: They look at me funny. Like they pity me. I wonder if I should throw my shoe at them to get them to stop. Well not this one, I particularly like this one. Maybe I can borrow his.

Chapter one

Blood. My blood. They wanted it they needed it and they almost had it. Almost sounds like a wonderfully marvelous word to me. They didn't have it, not yet anyway. They know I'm strong, too strong to be human. But I am, so they send many. Who are they? Just your friendly neighborhood psychos? I doubt it, they seem foreign. I hear there are rumors of the dark lord, voldemort having risen again. Shit, I don't have time to contemplate it as my arm is wrenched from its socket. Dislocated I think. I manage a weak gasp at the pain. I may be unnaturally strong but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. I kick one of them in the groin hoping that it was a man. I'm lucky, you can never tell with these he-she cloaks.

I'm surprised no one has fired the killing curse. I shouldn't jinx myself, I always do. Like the time I was sure we were going to see a snorkack. I managed to say something jinx-ish and we were out of luck. I think it was about lollipops. Oh off track again. Nearly got stunned if it weren't for the tree. I hear some of them laughing at me. They sound just like my washing machine did after it started hopping around the room. Maybe it is right now. Who knows, they did destroy my house, I hope my family got out o.k.

My family why hadn't that thought entered my mind before. Where are they? Fiona can't use magic yet and mother isn't capable of it. Squibs, of all things. No neighbors to help, they're all miles away. And just as I finish that last thought I hear a scream. An unearthly scream I hope never to hear again. I run toward it hoping that I don't see my darling sister.

Jinxed myself again I see. I lunge forward just as they do something I hope no person ever has to go through. Too late, someone just did. Her body lay prone as I hug her tight, tears streaming down my face. Hot stinging tears that slip gracefully down to my already soaking body. I hear that laughter again. But this time I don't imagine my washing machine, or the smiling face of my beloveds as they ride the stupid thing.

More accompanies the heinous laughter. As do the sobs, but wait. Another joins my mourning as I look up. And there I see her, my heroine, my savior, my mother. Magical or not, I always imagined she'd be the one to save me, despite my age. They toss her down, bound and gagged with many afflictions to her already fragile frame. I hug her close whispering the many things she would say to me when I was younger. When I needed saving.

I could feel their gazes on me as there laughter proceeds. Hyenas, the whole lot of them are. They are vile, evil, villainous creatures here to taunt me when I'm most vulnerable. I can barely register one of them telling me to say good-bye as they used a curse so vile that its sickly green light made me puke. As I look to my side where my mother's body lay limp, something inside me breaks. I couldn't speak even if I tired let alone shout.

I suppose they see a change in me, so the one who I will always remember as the spawn of evil itself pulled me upright. Only so I could fall back down. I couldn't support myself, I wasn't sure I was even breathing. He kicked me so hard I'm sure at least one rib broke. It was then that I realized I had given up hope. The saddest thing of all was that I didn't care.

They dragged me to an area void of anything but debris. The spawn as I now call him grabs hold of a dagger. This is it I think to myself, but I was wrong. So miserably wrong. It was just a portkey. We arrive in a deserted clearing, and he throws my body away from him as if I were the vile thing. He merely looks at the night's sky and tells me we are to stay here until further notice. I wonder how he'd be able to see anything through his white mask.

Now as I'd said before I'd given up much hope to care to try and run. I simply check my body for injuries hoping to bleed to death. But as I check my self I notice none of the blood is mine. It's always been like this, not even my mother remembers a time when I bled from injury. Sure a simple bruise or scrape but never blood. But just this once I wanted it. I wanted to take away what they so dearly wanted. To rob them of their prize.

I waited; I so eagerly waited for him to look away or to fall asleep. But he wouldn't budge his eyes an inch. Every shiver I made he watched, just waiting to restrain or attack me. My patience wore thin after a mere 5 minutes. But I waited until at long last his eyes began to droop. The dagger was nowhere around, so I searched with my eyes for something sharp. It wasn't a hard task. One sharp enough to cut was near my exposed leg.

I made sure to snatch a glance towards the spawn as I maneuvered the stone towards me. He seemed to be lightly dozing behind his protective shield as I gripped the stone with my good arm and dragged it down my wrist. The blood oozed becoming darker every time. It soon made a puddle around me. I felt so very weak with each second. I soon lay down to rest, but once my eyes closed I was sure I felt something strange. I ignored it becoming more faint by the time. That was the last thing I, Aisling Dubaer remembers.

Review to let me know if it bombed horribly so i know not to continue.