Life-in-Death
The fragile girl sat on the window seat of a hidden tower in her school of witchcraft and Wizadry. It was supposed to be safe, Harry always said that Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. She was stupid enough to believe him. He was so naive, so naive to the true world around him. She wasn't. She knew all about the evil monsters that roam the halls at night, and disguise themselves as people during the day.They would make you trust them, then take that trust and throw into the mud, crushing a person's belief in humanity. Ginny wasn't a naive little girl anymore, she knew the truth, she had lived it. She only wished that she could share the truth with others so that they would not have to find out the hard way, but the evil monster forbade her. Ginny let a tear glide down her cheek, unchecked. She would do this often, sit here, where no one could find her, no one at all. Not even herself. She would just sit there, at times thinking, at other times, not. Just sitting. Tonight, she thought. Big mistake, she knew, for that got her hoping, that got her longing. She hoped for a hero to come and save her, she longed for a life where she didn't have to hide away from all around her. She remembered a sort of story that she had read in Muggle Studies. It was called, Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. She remembered how he had done something so terrible, that Life-In-Death took over him, while his ship mates got Death. He was alive on the boat, but, really, he was dead. There was no one else there, no one he could talk to, nothing he could do. He was all alone. His penance for being uncaring of the world around him, naive, perhaps of the nature of the world, he was made to go through the ordeal of Life-In-Death, which was worse than Death, and he had to wear the Albatross he had so mercilessly killed around his neck. It was his cross to bear. Ginny was living a Life-In-Death, the monster that haunted her dreams was her Albatross. The differnce between the two was that she didn't know why she was made to go through this, she didn't understand why this was happening to her. She wanted Death, it would be better then living this thoughtless and pointless existence. She hated herself, and him. He had done this to her. She seethed, but then chided herself. This was foolish, there was nothing she could do. No one she could turn to. No hope. She stared out at the orb aptly names the moon, that was the only speck of light that was reflected in her eyes. The life was gone from her. He was this close to taking her soul. She needed help. The anger built up in her. She didn't want to be like this. She hated all about her, she didn't want to be this cowardly, she wanted to fight for her life; but how could she do that, when, ironically, her life would be forfeited if she even tried to fight back. All the anger grew in her body, and she punched the window with her small hand. She heard the shatter, it was like the first time she had bin hurt by the monster, and then she felt the sting. She grabbed her injured hand with her good one. She winced at the pain, but then look down at her hand. The blood oozed out of the gashes, fascinating the girl. She felt the emotional pain ebb away, as the pain of the gashes intensified. She slowly smiled. Perhaps this could be her salvation. She grabbed a fallen piece of glass from the smashed window, and proceeded to glide it over her pale skin, reveling in the silver and cold sting.
a/n that is the first chapter of Life-In-Death. I hope that you liked it. I'm sorry that it is so depressing, but when the muse is evoked, you don't question what comes out of you and onto paper. Coleridge wrote Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. I thank him for making the best piece of poetry to come out of the Romantic's Era. Coodles!
The fragile girl sat on the window seat of a hidden tower in her school of witchcraft and Wizadry. It was supposed to be safe, Harry always said that Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. She was stupid enough to believe him. He was so naive, so naive to the true world around him. She wasn't. She knew all about the evil monsters that roam the halls at night, and disguise themselves as people during the day.They would make you trust them, then take that trust and throw into the mud, crushing a person's belief in humanity. Ginny wasn't a naive little girl anymore, she knew the truth, she had lived it. She only wished that she could share the truth with others so that they would not have to find out the hard way, but the evil monster forbade her. Ginny let a tear glide down her cheek, unchecked. She would do this often, sit here, where no one could find her, no one at all. Not even herself. She would just sit there, at times thinking, at other times, not. Just sitting. Tonight, she thought. Big mistake, she knew, for that got her hoping, that got her longing. She hoped for a hero to come and save her, she longed for a life where she didn't have to hide away from all around her. She remembered a sort of story that she had read in Muggle Studies. It was called, Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. She remembered how he had done something so terrible, that Life-In-Death took over him, while his ship mates got Death. He was alive on the boat, but, really, he was dead. There was no one else there, no one he could talk to, nothing he could do. He was all alone. His penance for being uncaring of the world around him, naive, perhaps of the nature of the world, he was made to go through the ordeal of Life-In-Death, which was worse than Death, and he had to wear the Albatross he had so mercilessly killed around his neck. It was his cross to bear. Ginny was living a Life-In-Death, the monster that haunted her dreams was her Albatross. The differnce between the two was that she didn't know why she was made to go through this, she didn't understand why this was happening to her. She wanted Death, it would be better then living this thoughtless and pointless existence. She hated herself, and him. He had done this to her. She seethed, but then chided herself. This was foolish, there was nothing she could do. No one she could turn to. No hope. She stared out at the orb aptly names the moon, that was the only speck of light that was reflected in her eyes. The life was gone from her. He was this close to taking her soul. She needed help. The anger built up in her. She didn't want to be like this. She hated all about her, she didn't want to be this cowardly, she wanted to fight for her life; but how could she do that, when, ironically, her life would be forfeited if she even tried to fight back. All the anger grew in her body, and she punched the window with her small hand. She heard the shatter, it was like the first time she had bin hurt by the monster, and then she felt the sting. She grabbed her injured hand with her good one. She winced at the pain, but then look down at her hand. The blood oozed out of the gashes, fascinating the girl. She felt the emotional pain ebb away, as the pain of the gashes intensified. She slowly smiled. Perhaps this could be her salvation. She grabbed a fallen piece of glass from the smashed window, and proceeded to glide it over her pale skin, reveling in the silver and cold sting.
a/n that is the first chapter of Life-In-Death. I hope that you liked it. I'm sorry that it is so depressing, but when the muse is evoked, you don't question what comes out of you and onto paper. Coleridge wrote Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner. I thank him for making the best piece of poetry to come out of the Romantic's Era. Coodles!