I was going crazy without her: she was gone, unable to talk to me or contact me, stuck in that damn mental hospital. I felt like I was gonna be there soon, too, and I almost wanted to be. The psych hospital they had stuck her in was infamously haunted and very, very old. I had no idea why they still kept patients there, or why it was even open at all.
I couldn't stand being without her. The loneliness made my heart feel like it was frozen, below frozen, frozen to absolute zero where there was no energy left, no molecules moving whatsoever. I was finished crying: my tears had dried up, there were none left. I felt the urge, the urge from years and years ago, from middle school. The need and the addiction; I knew where my razor blade had been hidden for three years. I reached for it.
I was here with her. The paranoia crept over my body and settled on it like a blanket. In this hospital, there were very few nurses, but there was a large amount of odd noise, which I supposed could make up for its severe lack of medical staffing. I constantly heard machines flare up. I figured it was the heat as a newly formed snowstorm ravaged outside, but I couldn't help wonder where Hermione might be. It seemed that as the thought entered my mind, my wish came true. I heart paper sliding along the floor. A small slip of paper slid under the bolted door. I sat up and realized I was in restraints: I had been heavily sedated for what I later found out was a week. I was so scared; I would never be able to fall asleep with this level of paranoia. I tugged on the restraints as hard as I could, and surprisingly, they snapped off the bed. I would have laughed, but I was mostly numb and empty. I figured that I hadn't eaten in a long time: I was starving. I climbed out of the bed and picked up the note. In handwriting I recognized, it read only one word, signed with two letters.
Basement
-HG
An awful thought hit me. A realization: they're keeping her in the basement. I yanked the door open, the rusty bolts falling from their sockets as I pulled with all the strength I possessed at that moment. This place really is old, I thought to myself. I ventured into the long corridor. Several lights were burned out. I stared at a door across the hall from my room with a sign haphazardly tacked onto it. The sign read "Basement." Before opened the door, I peered out the window at the end of the hall. The sun had set, it was nighttime. I would never fall asleep alone. My chest burned with nervousness. As I opened the door to the basement, it made a loud, ominous creaking sound. I shuddered, feeling watched all of a sudden. I started down the groaning wooden steps, and my eyes hit a bed in the middle of the dark room. A figure lay in it. Long, dark hair and an emaciated body. Hermione was never emaciated before, but she had become so malnourished, even more so than I.
"What are you doing, Ginny?" An empty voice started me. It was Hermione's, but so changed. It was hoarse and quiet, and it sounded emotionless and numb.
"I don't wanna sleep aloneā¦" I said quietly (almost whispered) as I descended the rest of the steps. Hermione sighed. She moved over in the bed, and I climbed in next to her and covered myself in the sheets: the basement was freezing. I moved close to Hermione, hoping her body heat would keep me warm.
BANG!
It felt like somebody had thrown a gigantic metal bucket on the floor above us.
"Was that a ghost?" I asked timidly.
"Yes, those were the ghosts." Hermione answered in a tone that almost sounded like Luna's. Hermione was always so logical. She had never believed in Heaven, Hell, ghosts, God, or even magic. She believed in what she found logical. Now she believed in ghosts, and the way she had stated it sounded like she had had an encounter. I snuggled deeper into the sheets and closer to Hermione. She took my hand, and placed it between us. She turned sideways to face me as the night set in. We buried ourselves in the blankets.
"You're crazy, Gin."
"I love you."
We kissed.
