**Disclaimer on profile
Hey, all you readers! This is my veeery first published story, so pleeaaase give me some feedback! Thank you so very much! *gives apple pie*
Apr. 8th, 2003
The sight was one to behold. They looked perfect for each other. Too perfect. It hurts me everyday to see them happy together.
But I can't do anything about it.
They were curled up against each other, a dark mass of hair resting atop a slender, pale neck. Said neck belonged to a soft, smiling face, soft, white-blond hair, and a perfectly sculpted body. I would know. I've seen it. It's the body of a god.
I want him. But he just had to be the one my angel was in love with, not me. I'm happy for him, I really am. It's just that…
It hurts. It hurts so bad, having waves of pain coursing through your limbs in perfect synchronization with your heart. Every beat, every pulse.
Yet I let him go. After all, nobody can love me. I knew that a long time ago. Not now, not ever. So I let them be.
It killed me to see such contentment right in front of my eyes, knowing I would never achieve that. I'm too dirty, too frail, too distant, too…
Tainted. Broken.
Yes, those were good words. Suitable certainly.
They certainly weren't attractive attributes.
I turned around and silently drew the curtains closed around my bed. I didn't need their happiness jeering at me in my face.
And idea popped into my head. Why not just end it? Yes, that's perfect. Absolutely genius. I pulled my curtains open again, reached down, and grasped the handle of my dagger. I looked back up just in time to see the two snuggle a bit closer together as a breeze drafted through. I retreated back onto my bed and shut my curtains once more. I didn't want to cut across my wrists. The blood wouldn't flow fast enough. I decided upon cutting the way the pain went. Down my arms.
Parallel to my veins.
The blood would flow faster. Besides, even if they did find me early enough before I died, it would be a lot harder to stitch it up.
I brought the blade down and slashed down my left arm. I hacked and hacked away at it. I was waiting, waiting…
Ah. Here it is. The oblivion I've been searching for. I let go on the dagger and fell back onto the soft mattress, floating away into the darkness.
Apr. 9th, 2003
Only she reads the paper that thoroughly. On this tiny little section amidst the big articles, it read:
"16-year-old Blaise Zabini had committed suicide two days ago. Reasons were unknown."
Apr. 10th, 2003
A note was found on top of his bed.
Draco,
I love you. Always have, and always will. I'll watch over you. Both of you. Promise. In deserved each other.
Forevermore,
Blaise