Bottoms Up
By: BonaFake
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Warnings: Rated M for dark unpleasantness, language, and possible triggers.
Author's Note: Hey, thanks for clicking on this. A word of note: all of these drabbles are dark, weird, unrelated, and very, very short. I'll publish a new "round of drinks," so to speak, when I've finished it, and hopefully it won't take too long. All Gin'n'Tonic pairings. Because I'm addicted now. And it's a problem. Anyways, in a week or so, I'll have my short Dramione AU Witch Hunt ready to post, and that's pretty cool. I'm on tumblr at Bonafake for information on updates and also headcanons. Andddd I'm still looking for a beta. Recommendations or volunteers/victims are welcome. Feel free to review and tell me what you think of this round of drinks, so to speak.
I recommend reading these with poems from "Les Fleurs du Mal" by Charles Baudelaire in mind. Dark and exquisite. I think they suit. For the first round: Man and the Sea (Charles Baudelaire).
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The sound of the ocean makes Ginny Weasley want to die.
makes her want to walk into the ocean with a dark wool dress on and rocks sewn into the pockets and vermillion red lines running up her arms.
makes her want to fall battered on the rocks and float up to shore waterlogged and eyes closed or perhaps bulging out and black and blue bruises all over her nude arms and back.
makes her want to be dead.
And sometimes she thinks about it.
about slicing up her freckled arms with a large kitchen knife and tying herself down with heavy rocks and walking slowly into the sea crashing on the rocks with feet buried in the wet sand.
about allowing her pale bruised eighteen year old body to crash into the seaside rocks and her lungs to fill with stinging salt water and her eyes shut tight to the world.
about dying.
It's because she can't look at the sea or the rocks or any cave ever really anymore without remembering what he did there.
without remembering the horrible sick wonderful things that had happened in the cave next to the ocean and heroes and villains and redemption and failure.
without remembering what Tom did when he took the other children into the cave and she always shudders when she hears the waves crashing down and the screams.
without remembering him.
The screams.
Echoing.
Echoing.
Echoing.
And then usually she feels sick afterwards but she can't stop. Ginny can't stop falling back down into her memories- his memories and reliving every single minute of his- their worst experiences.
Every. Single. Minute.
She remembers every time he hurt someone or they hurt him and she remembers- no, not remembering, not really- it's knowing, it's knowing pure evil. Ginny knows every single time and the worst part is that he's gone now.
Except. Not. Really.
She knows him and of course she knows that you can only really love someone that you understand and so she loves him too. Because she understands. Because however much she wishes it wasn't, the darkness is a part of her now too and she can't get rid of it no matter what and the fact that she doesn't always want to makes it even worse than hate.
That. Is. Worse.
She knows how bad he is, how not-good, how vile, how evil Tom is and she loves in spite of that because she knew him because he was part of her because when she was eleven she was stupid because they were maybe supposed to be together because she loved him even then.
She. Loved. Him.
And of course the problem is that she loves him in spite of all this, because of all this. That's always the problem, isn't it?
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Drink Notes: Tanqueray Rangpur served on the rocks.