It's been a long time since I have felt anything but numbness and cold fear.
I exist but don't live anymore, ever since that encounter.
I want to leave this earth and be done with everything.
Everything.
Hate. Pain. Sorrow.
I used to feel love.
Now I am desperate to feel anything but this frozen, shattered soul of mine.
Why can't I die?
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A/N: I didn't invent these characters. They are the property of those who own them. I invented my own little plot for this story, though. And I wrote that little poem-ish sort of thing at the top up there. So, with that out of the way, here we go.
Wait! Before I forget to ask: Please, Please, PLEASE Review!
Numb
FLASHBACK
His eyes are haunting me. His leer sickens me. He is smiling, but I want to scream.
Does he understand what he is putting me through?
I don't think he has any idea.
I'm sorry, Harry. I should be resisting him. I should be fighting back.
But I feel so hopeless.
Will you forgive me when this is over?
I'll understand if you don't want me anymore.
But please, Harry. Please. I can't stand any more pain.
Forgive me. Without you, I would die. Then again... I wish I was dead right now.
I can feel him.
This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
END FLASHBACK
"Ginny?" There is a voice at my door. It's him.
"Gin?" I don't want to talk to anyone right now. I just want to lie in bed and never open my eyes ever again.
I hear him sigh. My door is opened an inch or two, and green eyes peer in at me.
Please go away. Leave me alone.
The door closes. He thinks I'm asleep.
Good.
I wish I could sleep. I wish I could fall asleep forever.
But I'll dream if I sleep.
And I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. I am already plagued by thoughts when I am awake.
What if I don't wake up? What if I exist only in a never-ending nightmare? No. I will not sleep.
My thoughts stray to Harry. He has been trying to talk to me for at least two weeks. I've lost count. And he doesn't understand that I just can't. I can't talk to anyone. Not after what happened. Do they honestly expect me to want to talk about this?
They don't get it. None of them. They don't know what it's like.
They have no idea. They can't comprehend how horrible it is. And I wish I couldn't either.
But I can.
I remember when I used to wish that Harry would be my first time. Now I just wish I'd never had a first time.
Life would be so much better.
I wouldn't be lying here trying not to think about anything.
And I wouldn't wish so much that I was dead.
But I do. And it's something I just can't control.
I really wish Harry would hold me and make it all go away, but I don't deserve him anymore. I can't ask him to do that. I'm not good enough for him.
I'm worthless, destroyed, and dead inside.
And I don't think I'll ever feel happiness again.