There is war in the air. And I can sense it. It screams to every fiber of my being and there isn't anything I can do to stop it. Because battle and prejudices have waged for thousands of years. Superiority and inferiority. Resulting in a crusade. A struggle for dominance. It was not a challenge. Or a fight. It was a necessity. A necessity to kill the enemy. An obligation to principles and to morals. A prerequisite that demanded endurance. Survival of the fittest. For only few could ever survive.
Yes, there was war in the air. It's painfully obvious in everything I do. I can hear it when I walk down the street. A deadened silence broken only by the whispers. Promises of what was yet to come. Of pain. Of death. Of silence.
I can see it in the face's of my friends. A tiredness that wasn't always there. A hardened gaze. It is reflected in their eyes. No matter how hard they try to hide it, I can see it. The lengths they would go to save something. Themselves. Their family. Their world. Perhaps they don't realize it, but I do. It is glaringly apparent in their actions. Because you can't hide the darkness, no matter how hard you try.
It sounds very odd, but I can smell it too. The stench of burning bodies that had yet to burn. The odour of the unforgiven. Of promises. Regrets. And vengeance. It's as if I cannot breathe. There is a backlash of curses, invading my nostrils until I can feel the scent of evil seeping into my pores.
That's something else strange that I've noticed. It's very easy to feel a war. It is heavy on my shoulders and a burden to my heart. I can feel it smothering me, choking me from the inside out as I carry on my day. Aware of what is happening to me but hopeless to my situation. As I dry heave down the porcelain, I can feel it. The icy grip of mortality, squeezing my very being into submission.
I would have gladly put up with this though. Had it not been the taste. A flavour that lingered in the back of my throat and the forefront of my mind. The bitter taste of anger and hatred and retribution. It is subtle in its misery and sharp in its persistence. And I cannot escape it.
The war consumes me. It is present in my life. Tangible in its existence. Concrete and ruthless. I long to hide. To fade into air around me. But I cannot. Because I must struggle on for my schoolmates. I must struggle on for my friends. I must struggle on for my husband. Because he struggles on for me too.
So I stay quiet. Unable to voice my dark thoughts. Because although my son cannot yet understand, I don't want him to hear the shadows of evil that haunt me. I cannot let him know of what I am capable of. For what my husband is capable of. For what the world is capable of. For I am not alone in my darkness. Because many would go to the furthest corners of hell to save a society that had seized control of them and is willing to destroy.
To destroy friendships.
To destroy families.
To destroy lives.
Because I, Alice Longbottom, will rage forth into battle. I will walk into war with nothing but grief in my head and death in my soul. Because I have no doubts as to whether or not I will die. But I will die for my family.
I was attempting to write another oneshot for my other series 'AZ of Hogwarts Relationships' and needed to write something about Frank and Alice's relationship.
And anyway, I let my mind wander, and this happened.
Except what I needed for my other story was something in Frank's point of view.
But I didn't want to get rid of this.
It took me no more than 5 minutes and is completely unedited in any way, shape and/or form.
But I hope you like it just as I do.
Review?