Look at your Game Girl- Song Fic

A/N: Since I'm feeling particularly morbid this summer I'm choosing a different sort of song for my song fic. It's going to be highly symbolic and it's going to be very interesting, especially given the history behind it.

For my 3rd year story/birthday song fic, in honour of my 16th birthday (which was yesterday but I spent all day at Wonderland and didn't get to upload it) and the love of all things Potter I'm mixing together the words of two major manipulating serial killers and giving you a dark story about Ginny Weasley and Tom Riddle, set to the words of Look at your Game Girl, written by the cult king behind the Tate/Lablancia murders in California in the 1960s: Charles Manson.

So sit back and witness an unfolding of darkness and happy birthday to me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Manson's song, he does, he in all his twisted racist psychopathic hate. Harry Potter is also not mine, it belongs to a wonderful lady named J.K. Rowling, who has contributed as much art to the world as Charles Manson took away.

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Ginny was sitting in her dormitories, scarlet hangings around her as she unpacked her things into the small space she would call her own for that year. She smiled as she looked at the sleek and glossy Lockhart books given to her by Harry Potter. What a boy he was, so sweet and kind. She placed the books in a neat pile on the table next to her bed reverently, respectful of the giver from whom she received the wonderful books; this was as opposed to the battered and busted books she had for every other subject, which was all her family could afford.

She gave another goofy smile to herself. He was kind and generous. Ginny didn't see this as pity, no not at all; hopefully as the start of something beautiful.

She casually threw the 'lesser' books onto her bed, looking for a hair ribbon so she would look her best at dinner. She was going to try and get a seat near Harry and try and talk to him. She started to turn red as she thought of him smiling at her over the mashed potatoes, which was when she heard one of the books clatter off the bed and onto the floor.

Frowning she picked the tattered covered book up and looked at it, turning it over in her hands. It didn't look like a textbook, and it didn't look like anything mummy had gotten her. Perhaps it was one of Ron's things which got packed her trunk instead. She noticed the slight shine of peeling gold letters on the cover.

"Diary" it read. She smiled smugly. Ron had left his diary in her trunk. Now was defiantly payback for when he pushed her off the couch last week. She'd read one of his secrets and he'd have to give up his seat next to Harry and let her sit there.

Opening the book she was dismayed to see each and every page was blank. Not a single word from January to December. She tossed it on the bed upset. Maybe it wasn't Ron's after all. But then what was it doing in her trunk? An idea struck her, maybe it was a welcome to school gift from her mum! Mummy must have slipped it into her trunk as a surprise! How wonderful! She grinned and placed the open book next to the Lockhart books on her bedside table, which was when she noticed the name on the inside cover.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

Hmm. Ginny shrugged it off. Mum always had to buy second hand. It was a surprise gift, she wouldn't complain if someone else's name was in her new diary.

After dinner Ginny ran back upstairs excited. She had said hello to Harry and it made her very happy that he had said HI back. Spotting her new diary she decided to put down the first entry right now, since she was in such good a mood.

But as the ink sank into the page, she didn't know what she was getting herself into as the words appeared back.

"Hello Ginny Weasley, I'm Tom."

There's a time for livin'

The time keeps on flyin'

Ginny smiled down into the diary. Her pocket sized friend was there to listen again. She had overslept for some strange reason. Lately she was feeling so tired and out of it, like time was just escaping her. She'd put her head down for just a second and then hours later she'd wake up and not know what happened.

She was slightly annoyed by it, but it was a new school and surely there were some stresses from being a first year. She wasn't used to the homework, the long hours in class, the crazy things the new students thought of wizards. Laughing at a memory of the day she pulled Tom out of her pocket and sat him on her knees and started to write.

And she wrote to him and he wrote back. And she wrote to him and he wrote back. And as soon as she knew it she looked up and her writing had brought her to outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom and she couldn't fathom why. Tom suggested she was delirious because she missed breakfast because she overslept. She nodded. He was right; these missing spaces of time were just normal and rational.

Weren't they?

Think you're lovin' baby

And all ya do is cryin'

Ginny sat down in the bathroom looking at the toilet she just threw up in. She had just seen a multitude of slaughtered chickens; they all lay before her in broken bloodied heaps. It had scared her so much and she didn't even notice that she was covered in red paint (or so she hoped). It was horrifying and nauseating; which is what led her to throw up in the toilet.

She started to cry and let those feelings pour out of her. Everything was going wrong and she couldn't see what was right through the fog she felt in her mind.

Pulling herself up she decided to go back to the dormitories. There she would talk to Tom and he would console her and make all doubt and fear go away; he was good at that. Tom made her feel safe. No one else could make her feel happier she thought pulling out a quill in the dorms and telling him all this. Ginny smiled once again as the comforting words grew out of the blank parchment.

A tear fell off her nose and onto the paper but strangely nothing was wrong.

Nothing was wrong.

Can ya feel are those feelin's real

Look at your game girl

Look at your game girl

Another student had been petrified in the hallways, Harry was being blamed again. Ginny knew it wasn't Harry but her doubts led her to strange conclusions. The way her year was turning out was not at all how she had expected. Could anything turn out the way she wanted?

She felt like she wasn't herself, like there was two different sides of her fighting for control in her head. But not like a smoke and fire fight, but a black sickly ooze slowly strangling all light and hope in her brain. Every day she woke up and the events would drown her until she wanted to swim to the surface, but she couldn't.

She knew Tom had something to do with the parasite inside her but he avoided all her questions. Answers that used to comfort her now confused her. Was this friendship really between both of them or was it a deadly game. This tug of war in her mind, was Tom the one on the other end of the rope. And if so, would he win?

What a mad delusion

Livin' in that confusion

Frustration an' doubt

Ginny woke up on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, just outside Hagrid's Hut. She started to shake. Why was this happening? Why could she not remember? Was she even in control of her own body?

Tom had told her that all little girls have crazy moments and well he was so smart why would he lie? He had nothing to gain by lying, didn't he?

She picked herself up and looked over at Hagrid's hut. She couldn't tell him when she herself didn't even understand what was going on here. All she knew for certain was that Tom was her friend, her friend in the diary.

Can you ever live without the game?

The sad sad game

Mad game

She felt scared, she felt grief, and Ginny couldn't escape these feelings. She especially couldn't hide her anger, the anger she felt at herself for allowing the slow black ooze in her mind to grow. It was seeping into her consciousness and was unstoppable. The battle for control in her own mind was deadly, she could feel it. There was no one to turn to except Tom but she knew he was the cause of all this.

Ginny wanted to stop writing to him but it was a compulsion, every night before bed, the little pleasantries they shared about 'how was your day?' 'Oh Harry waved at you?' 'Is Charms easy?'. These were soon forgotten in her writing as she started to worry about when she would think for herself again.

Tom why are you doing this? She would ask. Doing what? He would reply, I am your friend, the only one who knows every one of your secrets and darkest desires. She would forget why she worried, until she woke up again.

Every night her 'friendship' with the invisible stranger grew more twisted and powerful. She might say he was the only one who understood her, but he was the only one who understood her problems.

Just to say you love's not enough

If you can't be true

You can tell those lies baby

But you're only fooling' you

HOW CAN WE BE FRIENDS WHEN YOU WON'T TELL ME THE TRUTH TOM? WHY DON'T I REMEMBER ANYTHING FROM EVERY SINGLE TIME A PERSON WAS ATTACKED? WHY IS THIS HAPPENING? WHY TOM, WHY?

The friendship she had with the boy was nothing anymore. He may know everything about her but she was loosing herself. He had her mind in a vice and that was something she didn't want; she didn't want his friendship anymore. She grabbed the book and threw it to her feet and slammed her foot down hard on its paper center.. Tears ran down her face as the words kept coming through the pages. He was unstoppable, nothing could kill him because he didn't have a soul. He had her soul.

A single valiant effort from her arm threw book over the top of the stall until she heard a `hey!' and a splash as the book soared into the water, hopefully away from her forever.

Take yourself and crawl back to whatever bloody scumbag created you, Ginny told herself. She ran out of the bathroom, praying she would never have to think about Tom Marvolo Riddle ever again.

Can you feel are those feeling's real

Look at your game girl

Go on look at your game girl

Even when he was gone he was there. His words haunted her dreams and her nightmares making her not sure whether throwing the diary away was a god or a bad thing. She knew the power he had over her was not gone, but now the tug of war she had with him was no longer a game. He was no longer there to even fake being her friend and comfort her for a second to give her strength against his attacks. Now she was alone; painfully and shamefully alone.

She missed him, missed him and his manipulative words which made her do things she didn't even know she could. She missed his presence, the friend in her pocket. That security she had the illusion of when he was with her was gone now, but the darkness remained.

Did she love her tormentor? She did, but he was gone now and he would never come back.

If you can't feel

And the feelin's ain't real

Then you better stop tryin'

Or you're gonna play cryin'

Stop tryin' or you're gonna play cryin'

That's the game

Sad sad game

Mad game

Sad game

Was her love real? Ginny thought to herself as she crawled through the darkness, eerie sounds echoing off the walls. Tom had been playing with her mind for so long she didn't know fiction from reality anymore. These emotions she held, the desperation and loneliness could all just be things he planted in her mind. But to ignore what he said would be foolish because he had been a part of her for a long, long time.

Ginny knew that what she was doing was going to end the tug of war in her brain. She was going to lose.

She stepped into a gigantic room. The water on the floor glistened in the dim refracting light. Enormous statues played with shadows, creeping and slithering on the walls.

In the chamber of secrets Ginny knew the game was over. "Maybe it was over before it begun" Ginny murmured as she collapsed on the floor.