Hopeless

Italics- For Flashbacks

As I walked down the white corridors I heard my black heels clicking along the white tiled floor. I couldn't truly believe that I had come here, the fact that I was choosing to see him.

It shocked me to my very core. I stopped outside room 124 and took a deep shuddering breath. I had not seen him since I had been rescued.

Lying on the floor, chest heaving. Boken wand pressing against my chest, knowing I was trapped.

A shadow falling across me and a gruff voice saying.

"So my filthy little mudblood come to join me?"

Spitting "screw you!" with a lotmore confidence than I had.

A boot hitting me in my side and pain ripping through my shaking body. Knowing that I ought to have been respectful so I may have a small chance of survival, but being polite to the monster had been rather low on my list of priorities.

Feeling a boot crash into my skull and almost instantly blacking out. My last thought being that I was at the mercy of a completely heartless bastard.

I wrapped my hand round the handle and now daring to twist the handle and enter.

The man who had made me too scared to close my eyes a night lay inside the room I was about to enter. I had no idea what had possessed me to come here. Perhaps I had believed that coming here would perhaps solve everything. Seeing that he was locked up might give me a sense of security. But now being here, I couldn't even bring myself to turn a door handle.

I was pathetic. Just as he had told me. it was the only time he said a word during my tortures.

Curled in the corner of my prison, the floor cold as were the walls, yet prefferring to press against them than go anywhere near my captor.

Shaking like a leaf in the wind and hearing his breathing getting louder, as he was coming closer. Soon I feeling rancid breath against my face and and knowing what was about to happen.

Being dragged to the centre of the room. Being bound and feeling him climb on top of me. Feeling cold steel pressing against my wrist. Not knowing why was muggletools. Knowing the damage he created would be ten times worse if he were to use magic.

Feeling pressure on the blade and a warm trickle of blood flow across my wrist. Feeling shocked that I even had any blood left after he had cut me so many times. Actually hoping that if I had run out of blood he may have stopped. But I continued to produce blood and he continued to abuse me.

Squeezing my eyes shut just wishing for it to end. A rebellious tear managing to escape and him laughing, a cold heartless laugh. A laugh that chilled me to my very bones.

"You're pathetic" he sneered clambering off of me. Feeling the bonds disappear and guessing that he used his wand to vanish them. A draught entering the room and hearing the door slam signifying his exit.

Leaving me alone yet again in my cold dank prison. Plunging me even further into despair.

I stand up straight and push the door open, and gasping at the sight in front of me. The room is empty. A steel bed is against the wall, white sheets neatly in place. Completely untouched. White walls surround me and I step further in.

The door slams behind be and I whirl wound. There dressed in white hospital clothes is him.

His skin is waxy and yellowed. His eyes sunken hollows, cold and dark. He begins to laugh manically. His cackles echoing around the room. He walks towards me, slowly and purposefully. The scenario is all too familiar. And I feel myself beginning to shake.

I close my eyes but nothing comes. I open them to see him being restrained by two St Mungos healers. He is forced into the bed and one of the healers sedates him. I find myself running out of the room, out of the ward and into my own.

I fall onto my bed exhausted. I pull out my wand and begin setting wards around my hospital room. I wasn't taking any chances. Not after that. Not after all that had happened. Not ever.

I knew that there was no point in me trying to sleep. I hadn't slept since my return and it had become somewhat a habit to stay up all night. I changed into more comfortable clothes and hung my robes up.

Sitting down slowly I traced the scars covering my arms. What shocked me was how they changed to much in depth length and shape. They reflected the mood of my torturer perfectly.

Deep swipes for his anger. Shallow short cuts when he was most at ease. And small pinpricks from the tip of the knife when he had wanted to have some fun.

"Sick bastard" I muttered. I doubted if i would ever wear short sleeves again. I almost laughed at myself. I was in hospital after being tortured for almost a month and I was thinking about fashion. I felt almost as shallow as Lavender. I shuddered, but then realised something that was altogether even more worrying.

I had been captured for a month, that was four weeks, that was in the first week of the summer holidays, I had already been in St Mungos for a week, that made 5 weeks, which meant I had less than half a week before I returned to Hogwarts. I had no books, no equipment, I hadn't completed a single piece of homework. I hadn't even owled Harry and Ron, in fact I wondered if they even knew I had been kidnapped.

I took a deep breath, I was being released tomorow afternoon. That gave me enough time to go home settle in, get all my equipment and then go to the Burrow the weekend before school started and explain to them what had happened. I also needed to owl Dumbledore and ask to be excused from any homework I wouldn't be able to complete in the next 4 days.

I sighed and settled into the armchair next to my bed, it was going to be a busy week.