Disclaimer~ J.K. Rowling owns all the characters. I own the plot and the poem. It is copyrighted (the poem), so no funky stuff. If you would like to use it in a piece of writing, just ask. BMG/Volcano/Pavement/CZ owns Tool who owns Stinkfist. The Stinkfist lyrics are slightly out of order, but it works for my story. I am aware that wizards don't listen to 'muggle' music, but I need it for my story, if it really bothers you then pretend it is Miranda Goshawk singing it. I am not making any money off of this story; it is purely for enjoyment. This one goes out to Heath and Erin. I love you guys.
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Hidden faces
Behind the clothes
Ginny Weasely sat in a corner of the common room all by herself, no one noticed her.
And it's hard to get on
But nobody knows
She stared ahead at Harry, Ron, and Hermione. They were all laughing and having a splendid time. Sure, they had their fights, but they were so happy. She longed to be that way. She always felt so alone, no one connected with her.
Feels like no one cares
Nothing suffered, nothing lost
It was like they just hated her, no one cared. Nobody was ever there for her.
Angry music to avoid -but only-
Falling deeper into the void
She got up and went into her room. She put in her Tool CD and then placed her headphones over her ears so she wouldn't bother anyone. Stinkfist began playing. The music let her escape a bit from reality, but at the same time it made her feel more upset and helpless. There was just so much emotion in they lyrics. So many powerful, intense feelings that made her feel pathetic and so small because she couldn't understand her feelings.
Pit less, soulless
Freaks abhorred
Always being rejected
Forever ignored
Everyone shunned her because of her 'different' tastes in music -they were just so cruel. Although it was better than being completely ignored by Harry -I'm too good for you- Potter.
Cloak yourself
Pull away
Ginny pushed up the long sleeves on her robes, looking at the scars that covered them. It helped that she was a wizard and never had to wear short-sleeved shirts. She pulled out the razor blade that was in her bedside drawer.
Cut the pleasures
Feel no pain
She ran the knife over her arm lightly then plunged down, cutting herself almost methodically. Wincing, slightly she stopped, and then looked at her work proudly. She let the blood drip down, down...
Forget about the
Outside world and
Everyone that cares
She felt euphoric, she could only hear the pained voice singing 'This might hurt a little, but it's something you'll get used to. Relax. Slip away.' She was in her own world right now. Away, free, pleased.
Turn away, face the pain
Kill the pleasures
She had to stop the bleeding though. She wiped off the blood and then performed a basic spell that stopped the bleeding. She still had the scars though, red, swollen. But someday she would learn how to get rid of them...
Enjoy the pain
It was just that it was her only escape. She needed to cut herself 'I don't want it, I just need it, to breathe, to feel, to know I'm alive.'