There is no waking up to reality. There is only the brutal feeling
of dirty concrete pushing against palms and the overwhelming
brightness of so much light. There is only the tickle
in the spirit reminding you that colors exist
again. There is only the memory that one last, deep breath
needs to be taken so that you can cherish the feeling
of light on flesh. Because it never stays.
July 25th, 2018
I think Granny knows I still carry it everywhere. If it wasn't in my school bag, it was in my robes, and now if it's not in my robes, it's in my briefcase. Well, his briefcase. That's where I found it, sometime ten years ago, right before Hogwarts.
The pages used to be crisp, the binding thick and unbroken. The pages almost still stuck flat against each other, and when I opened my father's journal the first time... It smelled. Like—
It's stupid, I know. Victoire said so, just a few weeks ago, in the middle of the living room at the Burrow, with everyone sitting around and laughing and remembering things none of "the kids" were alive for.
"Love, we can't just yet."
"And why not?" She sniffed, sat up straighter so that her long hair fell to curves around her waist.
"It's not…" I breathed in, let it out. "I just don't have—"
"Well, maybe we could if you took the time away from fiddling with your diary," Voictoire hissed and, I swear, the room got silent. Ron shifted in his seat and looked away, cleared his throat until they all started laughing and eating the cakes Mrs. Weasley kept sending around the room.
And that was it. Except for Harry, watching me in a corner.
Merlin, he knows everything, though that doesn't mean I have to tell him everything.
So I got up, shut the door, and walked until I calmed down enough to apparate. I wasn't family or anything. I didn't have to say what was on my mind, what had been on my mind since the day at work that they started letting something on. The same day that I reread the very last entry in his journal, written days before he died. Written days after I began living.
And, together... Let's just say that the perfect world we were left to live in... isn't quite so perfect.
I don't know what to think anymore, and this is stupid.
Goodnight.
-ted