They were the stuff of legends.
He was awe-inspiring, silly, and a crybaby. He was a mad powerhouse, wild, and empty. She was wild, kind hearted, and flawed. They were the history makers and the history changers.
They were sad and depressed, aged by battle scars and bullet holes covered by leaking bandages.
No one knows how they rose to the top so fast.
.
..
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They are like us, flying higher than birds and spaceships. But the higher you are, the farther the fall. Most fall and crash and burn, others tread lightly. But they had fallen.
They fell up, scraping themselves along the way.
Dangerously teetering on the edge of the sky. They were all the weakest of the lot, the most pathetic of all. They all started as a weak, pathetic human being that was all bark and no bite. They were weak and pathetic and clumsy, but they had never fell nor given up.
Curses were tied around their necks, choking, tying, knotting, and killing. They couldn't breathe and breathe and breathe…
It was killing them slowly and they gasped for air and-
You can start breathing, darlings.
A bright and ugly world opened up to them.
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..
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The redhead boy was first to start to fall and live.
He had already tried to let go a long time ago, his heart barely pumping, his lungs barely breathing, his brains barely thinking, his legs barely kicking, and his soul barely trying.
His body had already believed that it was going to be neglected after Molly had panicked about how fat she was growing with her sixth child. By her third trimester, she was underweight by 30 pounds but he was still living even though he wanted to diehedidn'twantotliveanymoretheworldwastoocruel–
Ron did not cry, but silently gulped air and was tiny, a premature and bloody baby.
His first thoughts were relief, relief that he was out of that cramped body and relief that he received nourishment. The constant binging and purging that her mother went through made it a miracle that he was alive.
They had already predicted that he was going to die and not live anymore and float away, getting wasted by the devil.
Arthur was crying at this miracle baby and named him Ronald, because it was apparently his decision that he wanted to live. The doctors, nurses, and surgeons forced him to breathe, survive, and be alive.
What is the meaning of life?
And then he cried, and cried, and cried until he became a crybaby.
.
..
She was next, struggling the entire time. Fighting for her gulps of air that made her bellow and howl, shaking the hospital with her sounds. She clawed her way out, crying and screaming.
You were named Hermione because you will be escape your destiny.
Everything was a curse when Hermione was borne. Her birth mother had threatened to kill her if she did not quiet down. Her father had looked at her with utter disgust.
They constantly fought, screamed, and clawed. Bruises appeared and phone calls were made.
She was silent, damaged, and flawed. Every day was consisted of her closing her ears shut and silently screaming until the lights turned off. She developed a degree of autism that had been fixed when she was five.
I can't hearnaythinganymoreeverythingiswaytoojumbledsomeonehelpme–
Her mom had come home one day, crying and swallowing white candies. Tears streamed as she popped them one by one into her mouth, drinking murky white liquid that mixed with her tears, burning a hole in the poor woman's stomach and intestines.
Hermione thought it was funny. While giggling, she asked for some. Her mother was melting down, down, down until Hermione cocked her head and asked why her mom wasn't giving her any of the sweets.
Her father just shrugged and offered her up for adoption, but later on she would know that–
He screamed and screamed and screamed, yelling, " I'm free!" He was hysterical and a gunshot had rang through the house like a loud murderer crashing through the house.
She had been adopted by two kind surgical interns.
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..
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Harry had not fallen– for the first year of his life.
And then it began, with the murder of his parents, the sacrifice of his mother, and his family. His parents were good people that had met the misfortune of a simple car accident.
It changed his life, and the social services shipped him off to live with his aunt and uncle. His relatives turned him into a slave of theirs.
" Go clean my room!"
" Pull the weeds!"
" Dust my trophies!"
" Wash Leah's dishes."
He became automatic, dust, wash, clean, pull, wash, wash, and wash. If you don't clean this fast enough then Uncle Vernon will beat your sorry butt. If you don't wash this fast enough, Aunt Petunia will slap and smack you. If you don't dust this fast enough then Dudley will make you feel pain.
If you don't finish this fast enough, Leah will scream and abuse you.
Bruises littered his arms, blood was drawn in thin lines, and marks were all across his body.
But the worst; his mind was damaged and he was painful and crying all night, staring endlessly into the blank space he once called home.
Homehomehomehomehomehome. Whatisthemeaningofhomeifthereisnowhereelsetogo?
His soul had long since gone into a horcrux and he was... okay.
" How are you feeling?"
" I'm fine, fine, fine, fine, fine."
No, I'm not, I'm completely destroyed, my soul is gone and I can't breathe. Living is like a burden I don't want to exist anymore someone please save me.
But instead, he displayed an amazing array of sadism and something akin to magic by snapping his cousin's, Leah's, blubbery neck.
This time, he smiled and smiled and smileduntilhislipscrackedinasatisfyingsplit.
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..
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Do you see what they have become?
" the loved girl, smart and colorful, is smiling as she destroys bodies and laughs as she is crushing and bloodying those poor souls in war, thinking that she is god by taking and saving lives."
" the scarred boy, wild and powerful, is giggling as he is crushing his enemies with a flick of his hand thinking he is some sort of monster by crushing all in his paths and pretending that he is just fine and nothingisgoingtobealright–"
" the freckled boy, cheerful and loyal, he laughs and is friendly all the time, smiles and changes history and twists hearts by the looks in his eyes, words, and dreams because of all the destruction he has caused and pretends he doesn't know..."
…
These are the heroes that they have become, that everyone calls perfect, undamaged, and flawless when they see them crunching the bones under their feet, laughing as they take another life, and screaming with joy as they gamble with life.
They are great generals and warriors, uncontrollably laughing as they command their soldiers to fight for the country, to death. They are screaming with joy when they take the lives of their enemies–knowing that itisgoodforthecountryandyoushouldn'tworryaboutthedeaths.
They are made from the life blood of their enemies, the cries of the helpless, and the horrible laughter that echoes and echoes until you hear it fade but still feel it in your bones.
This is what truly means to be heroes and those who fall up and become legends.
To lose everything that is closest to you.
" ... and their closest friends and family watch them slowly lose their humanity with cheerless and cold faces, barely registering what is happening with the three, because very few are like them, the ones who are falling down and then fall up, up, up into the sky..."
Should there be a sequel?
I want to know if you guys enjoyed this or not! Thank you for reading, and stay tuned for my next story :')