Till' I Collapse
Chapter 1: Baby, don't cry.
The bottle broke, piercing my skin, staining my white, satin dress a shade most certainly not white. Another…and another…until my porcelain skin resembles a red apple…and my black hair, denuded of all shine and silk it once possessed, was matted on my face with caked blood. I stand, cornered…yet, unafraid. Fore there is nothing to fear. He has already stripped me of my emotions, stolen my childhood, and tainted my dreams with blood and bruises.
Shards of glass and drops of blood rain over me, just as they had for the last ten years…but I did not fall…and I did not cry. Tears are for those who have lost something; I have nothing left to lose…nothing left of my own. Every part of me is owned by him…and will forever be. I may find a way out…but my mind? No, my mind will never be free.
Another ten minutes pass before the alcohol finally takes toll on him, and he drops to the floor limp…I would have thought him dead had he not been taking shallow breaths. I ease over to his side and look at his face, growing older with the years. His hair was a dusty-gray color matching the color of his eyes…his once blue, twinkling eyes. His lips, lines on the corners symbolized the traces of a smile that had long since vacated this household. I slip the beer bottle from his fingers and toss it in the bin next to the counter, my eyes catching the glint of something metallic lying on the cold, hardwood floor. They lead my legs to a small, silver picture frame lying under his long, black trench coat. Brittle fingers stretch to grab the object, torn skin opens again, bleed again. I gaze at the picture, enclosed in a silver picture frame. I'm standing in a field of white daisies, my white dress whipping in the breeze; not a drop of red stained it then. I'm smiling…laughing even, not a tear drop in sight for a mile.
He stands behind me; a man that I have not known in ages, yet I have spent every waking moment in his presence. He was different then. He wore his nice, blue stripped shirt that I had always found to be handsome on him. His arms hugged me, and that smile…oh, his smile is what made me laugh. He was my protector…back then. My father…but no longer…he disowned that title the first time he struck me. However…I have never lost hope…that one day, all this will be put in the past. That one day, only the scars I bare would remind me of the events that occurred tonight…every night since I had turned six.
"Goodbye daddy…" I whisper into the warm august night. I kiss his cheek lightly. Chapped, cracking lips touch his five-o'clock-shadow. I stand, just as tall as I have ever stood, and slowly make my way up the stairs. I don't even glance at the pictures in the hallway anymore, all they do is bring back memories I had long forgotten. Heading straight to the bathroom, I mop the blood, as best as I can, from my dress before pealing the saturated fabric from my skin. Water spills from the tap of the bath as I sink into the steaming water. A hiss emits from my dry throat as the steam stings the wounds on my back, but slowly turns into a purr when they begin to sooth the pain. The water turns a light pink as the blood is pulled from my hair. I grab the soap and begin to wash my locks gently. I loved my hair…it was the last thing I had that belonged to my mother. She was beautiful, with her long, raven hair and shocking blue eyes. She had skin the quality of white silk and the height of a, shorter, model. Her voice…oh, her voice was the sound of heaven! I remember for my birthday, ever since I was four, I had wished to, one day, sing like she had.
I emerge from the bath, my cuts and scrapes had begun to clot and most were no longer bleeding. I wrapped my thin body in a crisp white towel and combed my hair tangle-free. Through the door was my room. I quickly dressed into my nightgown and sat down at a small writing desk with quill and parchment at hand; I began to scroll my letter.
I Dear Madam Maxime,
I regret to inform you that my stay at Beaubatons will be cut short. My father feels it best that I complete my final year at Hogwarts and I, of course, have no say in the matter. I greatly appreciate all the warmth and hospitality you have shown me since I first arrived and I shall never forget it. You have been like a mother to me and I will never forget the day I first set foot into your academy. I will of course miss you and all the girls greatly while I am away and will always remember the knowledge I have absorbed while attending the academy.
Much love and thanks,
Angelie Roux /b
I sealed the letter with a bittersweet taste. I had always loved attending Beaubatons, and the girls were always so kind. Yet, the education and such had never been what I hungered for. I needed variety and understanding. Not similarity and a slap on the wrist at every mistake. Besides, my father would never find me at Hogwarts…hell! He would look for me at Durmstrang before he ever thought of Hogwarts!
With a short whistle, my owl was by my side, a leg stuck out waiting on my letter. I tied my letter with a single red ribbon before she took off, out the open window….
I dry my hair with a quick drying spell before settling myself into my warm covers. A song came to me, a lullaby soothing me into a deep sleep…
I Hush now.
Don't cry now.
Sleep until the sun comes up again.
Be calm now.
Soothe the pain now.
I'll be here with you through the night.
Baby, don't cry. /I
A tear escapes my eyes before I am slowly put to sleep my the melodic voice…my mother's voice. I hear her at night sometimes, when the beatings are bad and I know she is watching me. Her sky-blue eyes see the pain and suffering as her voice comforts me in the best way she can offer. I never cried when she died. Not a single tear had graced my eyes…not a single sobbed managed to wriggle from my throat. It had been sad, of course, but I knew. I knew that this was God's way of telling the world that my mother, Angelina Roux had been promoted, in a way, and was to join God's chorus of angel's. I mean, why else would he grace her with such a heavenly voice? I remember a small smile of understanding when I learned that my mom had passed in that 'unusual' hot air-balloon accident.
I sleep…knowing that tomorrow, all will be right in the world. That I will finally be on a train to Hogwarts and that my dad will be away from me until Christmas break nears.