This story is based on "If Only He Could Read My Mind" by Gyffindork, which is really good but I thought I'd give it a bit different of an ending (not sure what that is yet though...) Some parts are very similar to Grffindork's story but Izzy is my character and the different ending is mine too.
Chapter one
Just because I'm telling this story doesn't mean I'm alive at the end. Just because I'm breathing and my heart is beating in the end, doesn't mean I'm alive. In order to be truly alive you have to be able to feel, and that is what I have been trying to stop since fifth year; until now, halfway through sixth year. That's when I met Remus Lupin. He saved my life in a way that he'll never know. Unfortunately, good things never last; such a cliché, I know, but it's unbearably true. I know from personal experience, but alas, I'm getting ahead of myself. The only right way to tell a story is from the beginning. Readers be warned though, this is no fairy tale. I don't even know if it has a happy ending. Let's go back to the beginning: a few months into sixth year, two weeks after Remus asked me out.
I sat alone in from of the Gryffindor fire, letting the endless chatter of the Common Room wash over me. I cleared my mind, trying to forget the harsh letter I'd recently received from the people who call themselves 'my parents'. As thoughts of them pushed to the surface, I started worrying the marks on my wrist, causing them to sting warningly. I stopped, not wanting to re-open them and have people, particularly Remus, notice. I felt someone approaching and hurriedly fixed my sleeve so it's covering my wrist.
"Are you ok babe?" Remus asked and he sat down next to me. "You look pale." He was always so concerned and yet he never would have guessed what was truly wrong. Part of me wanted to tell him, but the defiant, proud part refused to see the pity that would surely enter his eyes.
I smiled. "I'm fine, just tired, you know." I automatically leaned into his shoulder as he put an arm around me.
"You're amazing, Isabelle," he mumbled into my hair as he kissed my temple.
"I don't see why," I grumbled to myself. I knew I was worthless, nothing special; my parents were thoughtful enough to remind me regularly of the fact.
Eventually, I headed to bed, making a detour at the bathroom. After checking that the dorm was empty, I locked the door and threw up my dinner. It'd become natural and regular these past months: I'd eat little and throw it up as quickly as I could. It was simply a necessity.
Keep in mind it will get dark and a bit graphic. Please review.
