A story about the real Luna Lovegood

Rated R for references to self mutilation, suicide and sex later on.

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The small brass alarm clock on Luna's bedside table rang shrilly. She rolled over and clicked the small button on the back, ignored her roommates grumbling, and swiftly rolled out of bed. Another day. This was just what she needed. Another day of pain and torture from her fellow peers. The ones who were supposed to be her friends. "Shut up!" she told herself. "You don't have time for self pity" She changed in the cover of the curtains around her bed; not wanting to bring unwanted attention to herself. The day passed by uneventfully, but when she returned to her dorm to finish her homework. It was another story. Two girls were waiting for her. Luna walked in to catch them riffling through her trunk and bedside table drawer. One of them was holding her knife.

Her knife, the only thing she had comfort in. she had stolen it from a small shop in france after her mothers funeral. The girl who was holding it smiled a truly evil smile and said "well well well, loony lovegood had a secret! Looooonys a cutter, a filthy, worthless, fucking cutter!"

Luna just stood there unable to move, then an idea hit her. "Am not! I had food in here once..."

She girls smile widened, "and that's why you wear long skirts...in the summer?!" she cackeled loudly, dropped the knife, and strode out of the room, followed by her friend.

Luna sunk against the wall, unable to hold back tears. This was everything. This was all she was living for. She stood up, choking on her tears. Strode over to her nightstand and picked up her knife, looking at it. It had a red wooden handle on witch she had painted the name of her mother. She had also drawn small flowers and butterflies. She laughed, still crying, at the comic-ness of this knife. She sat on her bed, and drew the curtains closed.

She held the knife steady, slowly pulling up the ends of her knee length skirt. She drew the knife over her skin. Blood running quickly down her leg, onto the white sheet. She felt no pain. She didn't need the pain, just the blood. she only needed to know she was alive.

She had been so wrapped up in the moment that she hadn't heard the dormitory door open. Ginny Weasly, the only person who had even paid somewhat positive attention to her, had walked into the dorm.