She could her heart beat, as the moon shone down on her pale, gaunt face. Blood dripped from the self-inflicted cuts on her wrist, a beautiful dark red, almost maroon color. She looked nostaligically out of the window as she remembered how very much she wished her hair would look like that when she was younger. But it always remained a vibrant red, with a tinge of orange in it that made her and her long mane look as bright as the sun. "The famous weasley family color", she whispered, her mouth twitching as she did so. Everyone used to say that. But now...now, that beautiful girl and her radiant hair had become...lifeless. it was shorter,uneven, coarse. Probably even smellier than her old potions professor's, she thought in her head, apparently unamused.
She looked at her hair again. the red was lighter, the orange...no longer there.
The blood had reached the palm of her small, delicate hands. She stared at in fascination, then picked up the silver dagger next to her. Silver like his eyes. She trembled as she remembered him - "DON'T THINK ABOUT HIM!", her mind yelled at her - but she couldn't help it. She plunged the sharp blade into her skin again, this time, even deeper.
More tears came down from her eyes.
She couldn't understand how this had all happened. Hadn't been just a few years ago, she had been a happy, healthy girl with a loving family and friends? Why did she let him ruin her?
Him.
"Don't think about Him," her mind warned again.
But how could she not?
He was the reason she was what she was today. If only she had never met him...never fallen in love with his cold, silverish eyes. But he captivated her. He pretended to love her like she did him, gave her nice little gifts, kissed her passionately when they were alone, breathng sweet lies into her ears of how much he loved her...of how he'd give up being a deatheater for her...how he would - she couldn't go on.
That bastard, she whispered. "THAT BASTARD!", she screamed.
She threw her head against the wall, sobbing violently and falling down to knees. Never had she felt so broken in her whole life, so empty. She let him take over...and now she was a prisoner. He used her to get information. He used her...to destroy her.
Slowly, she reached out for the dagger. Her handy was unsteady, her mind no longer her own. The emptiness had taken over her body. Through the tears, she could no longer see the last remains of the Weasley red in her hair.
Her eyes drew themselves back to the silver dagger.
Slowly closing them, she thought of Him again.
And remembering how he had done the same to her, she stabbed herself in the heart.