Lily watched as the stars popped in front of her eyes, twinkling; in the back of her mind, she realized that they looked like the city lights of London, if one saw them at a distance. The lights she'd first seen as a little girl before she knew about all of this. About magic and secrets and castles and spells, as if anyone would believe that if she told them.
She felt the air leave her lungs and her eyes watered. The stars dissipated into darkness and suddenly but slowly, as if drowning, Lily collapsed. She couldn't bring herself to care. Behind her, in front of her, to the sides, she heard several voices –murmurs reached her clogged ears but one voice sounded over the others.
That voice, the scream it gave, sounded as if it had been pulled from a soul; it was deep and mahogany and Lily knew exactly to whom it belonged. She refused to let herself think of it, think on it and chose instead to float away – letting the blackness pull her in, pull her under, pull her away.
Away to a place without thoughts. Away to a place without panic. Away to a place where she wasn't afraid.