'I've never fell so hard, in all my life. I've lost her, I've lost her, again.'
I walked along the track, my boots kicking dust around me. I didn't dare look back.
Because if I did. I'd see her, sitting there. On that hill. Where I left her, again.
I'd see the sun hitting her dark curly hair, a small halo forming around her head.
I'd see her silhouette, her delicate frame. Alone. Again.
I'd see the emotion on her face.
I daren't look back. I'd rather cross hell 3 times over than see her face right now.
I turned. Like a fool, I looked back.
I saw her, sitting there. Her beautiful face looking back at me, the tears around her eyes. Her hair reflecting the suns rays, she was an angel, an angel that fell out of the sky for me, and all I've ever wanted was for her to be happy, for me to send her back to the heaven where she belongs. And all I've ever done is drag her through hell with me.
Pansy. A simple name. A plain name. A name with nothing attached. A flower. I first met her when I was 5, in the gardens of my estate. We grew up, I grew up. Now 17 and walking away from her. Something I told myself I'd never do to her again.
She once told me that life was beautiful. And it was, when I was with her. The grass seemed greener, the sky bluer and the rain fell gently, softly. Music sounded sweeter, food tasted better. She made me believe that there was more to life than the dark lord. Because when I was with her, nothing was dark. The night sky shone with stars and clouds never entered out peaceful world.
I suppose in a way, the real world caught up with me the day I turned 15.
At the age of 15, I fell. I fell so hard I never really got up. I left her, and I left myself. I grew out of myself, out of her. My world darkened in ways I never thought they would. The darkness wasn't that bad. It was just different. My first taste of pain, and it tasted bittersweet.
The first time I said goodbye, she didn't understand. We were both young, and love hadn't hit us. She cried though, cried all through school, in corners and classrooms. I cried too. Although I wasn't crying for her. I was crying for myself. I had lost myself, and I liked it. It made me feel alive in a way that pansy hadn't made me feel.
Bellatrix made me feel alive. She came to see me, introduced me to the dark lord. She was beautiful in a way I never understood. Dark and strange and hauntingly beautiful. Or at least she was once. Her eyes were so dark I couldn't see her pupils, her hair was almost as erratic and her behaviour, she was crazed, wild and beautiful. She taught me spells that even grown men wouldn't utter, she showed me her world, it was dark and sensual. Something I didn't think existed.
Pansy didn't understand me anymore, she knew my world and she snubbed it, she was the light in the dark and I didn't want to see her light. I wanted to help my parents, become respected and honoured in this new world. This tantalising new world. I wanted to become more than the Draco she saw. So I turned away from her. I never wanted pity, or help. And she was ready with both.
Most people who have lived in the dark will realise this. It overwhelms you. At first you embrace it, it makes you feel alive, it tastes delicious against your skin, it cools you and hides you. But then in over takes you. It blocks you off, you forget yourself, what you were, what you are now. It hurts you in ways you never expected.
I never wanted to kill. Or hurt. I felt like I was drowning, and every time I saw the death eaters, I felt like I was being suffocated. I couldn't back out and I couldn't stay. I felt like dying. Then she came back into my life. Like a shooting star across a pitch black sky. I knew it wouldn't last long, I knew I'd leave her, like I am now. I'm leaving her. But this time, I'm doing it for her, and not for me.
She hugged me, dissolving the darkness around me. Her light cut across my world, the gash were she cut across bled, but it made me feel free. She freed me from myself, she never asked, I told. She knew not to. She accepted me, the new me. The thin, frail, pale 16 year old boy, whose heart was encased by wire, wire which belonged to the dark lord.
It was just the way she was. Happy. I wanted her like I wanted the life style of the dark lord, like a drug. I wanted to inject her into my veins and feel her release me. I wanted her the same way Bellatrix wanted the dark lord. All I ever wanted was her. Pansy.
I held her every day, I held her through the night. I felt myself crumble when she wasn't around me. She was all I needed. I didn't need food or drugs or the dark lord. All I needed was her. She healed me, her hands across my chest made my heart beat again and her laugh made me smile, the way her eyes shone strained my heart. I loved her. I loved the way she made me feel. After a year of juggling her and the dark lord, I felt like I was becoming stronger.
But then it happened. They wanted her too. They saw what she had done to me, and they wanted her as well. They wanted to mark her, her beautiful, translucent, supple skin with the dark mark. I felt sick when they told me, they told me it would make me happy. But whenever I thought of her, with that mask on, with the writhing mark on her arm, I wanted to be sick.
She told me she would join. She told me that we could be together, that maybe it would make us happier. I cried until I thought my heart would bleed. I knew I had to save her from it, because it was already to late for me. So I left her again. I spent the night with her on our hill. Watching the sunset and rise for the last time. I held her in my arms and told myself this was for her. I had to leave her or I would kill her. She was my angel, she fell from heaven to save me, and she did. And in turn, I would save her from myself.
I turn back again, one last time. My boots kicking along the ground, the dust flies. My eyes wander back along the hill top, to where she is sitting. She looks down at me, her eyes creased at the sides. Her smile beautiful, her tears shimmering in the light. As I look at her I can feel the delicate membrane over my heart splitting. The pain is intense, all those days she spent healing me, all gone. I can feel my heart bleed, bleeding pain. And as I look back again, I swear I can see her, bleeding also.
