My Sunshine Through the Clouds
Rating: PG-13
Summary: "I wish that you had been horrible to me, I wish that you had beaten me and abused me in every way possible. Then maybe I wouldn't be dying inside without you." Ginny learns of the cruel casualties of life.
Disclaimer: Anything you recognize, I don't own.
A/N Extremely depressing, written as a result of my overactive imagination and a bad situation. This is a no ship story, Ginny lost her father, there's the plot in a nutshell. Not a romance, so don't expect one.
The rain came down without ease; sunshine was not a possibility for the day. A lone figure clad in black with the only accessory of her tears stood in front of a fresh grave. She began to speak, but only the birds were still around to hear her.
"You lied to me. You promised to always be there, and you never broke one of your promises to me…until now. I want to hate you, it would make it easier. I wish that you had been horrible to me; I wish that you had beaten me and abused me in every way possible. Then maybe I wouldn't be dying inside without you."
Her sobs gave way and her knees sunk into the damp ground. The dirt stained her outfit, but she took no notice. It didn't matter now, nothing did. He was gone and he took her hope with him.
They say that every girl wants to a man like her father. She didn't want any man though, not now. No man could even compare to her father, no one could reach his greatness. He had died for the "cause." It was laughable though, what cause? It no longer made a difference to her who won the war; he wouldn't be around to see it.
Everything that she had in life was because of her father. He had worked every day of his life to provide what little they had. Her mother was great and all, but her father was…the glue that held them all together. He was the guidance, the light in the darkness of her despair. He was the sun shinning through the gathering storm. The sun was gone now though, and she relished in the darkness.
Out of tears and exhausted she got up from the gravesite, broken and defeated. She walked lifelessly back to her house, she couldn't even tell if it had taken her an hour to get back or ten minutes. It all seemed the same, it all blended together in an endless see of nothingness.
The house came into view. That's what it was to her now, a house, not a home. A home is the residence of a family, full of love and joy. No joy was left, they had all fallen into a pit of depression, her mother being the worst. Her dear mother had fallen apart after the death of her husband. She was no more capable of taking care of a family now then she would be to even make it outside.
Ginny felt like an orphan, and somehow that seemed to fit her present mood.
She walked into the house and stared at the door as she shut it behind her. The realization that he would never again walk through that door with his cheerful grin and mischievous eyes brought on tears that she wasn't aware that she had left.
Everything in the house caused more sorrow. He would never be there at the table again to gleefully tell of his adventures with muggles, he would never again add his beloved muggle artifacts to the living room for proud showing. He would never do anything again because he was gone, and not even magic could bring him back.
She walked the stairs to her room and passed Fred and George in the hallway. They walked silently past her and gave only a brief nod of recognition. This saddened her broken heart; they had lost their good humor on the world.
Walking into her room gave cause to shield her eyes. The brightness of it seemed so unfitting and overwhelmed her. She had always despised the color pink, and yet her room was done up in many variations of the horrid color.
She took her wand out in unprovoked anger. She pointed it carelessly around the room and watched as blackness overtook the pink as a result of her coloring spells. She didn't care if the Ministry expelled her, she didn't want to go to school anymore anyway.
Once the room was fully black she sat on the floor, not having the effort to make it to her bed. There was nothing left to do, nothing left to think about, besides him. He didn't have to die. He shouldn't have even been fighting, but he couldn't stay away from the war.
They had labeled him a causality of war. As if it were regrettable, but just a mere side effect of their war. They treated him as if he were expendable. They may be able to do without him, but she couldn't. No one cared abut that though, the silly ranting of a little girl.
She attempted to tell them exactly what she thought of their cause, but all she had gotten was a sympathetic pat on the head and told that it would get better.
Time heals all wounds. That didn't feel in the least bit true. She knew in the depths of her soul that this wound would never heal, she would never fully recover, never be right.
She glanced across the room to her window where the rain was still falling and the sun was still gone. Life doesn't always have happy endings, and people can't always be fixed. Her sun was gone and nothing could ever replace it.
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A/N Not happy, I know. A recent blow has been given to my family, fortunately, nothing to this extent, but enough that everything that I write comes out horribly dark. Review if you want, but if you're going to tell me that it sucks because it's not fluffy and happy don't bother.