A/N: A little snippet I wrote while listening to Down with the Sickness by Disturbed. It was going to be a prologue sort of thing for a longer story, but I decided against it. I'm not sure if I like this much, but as long as it's written, I might as well share it. Someone else might like it.
This is Ginny's thoughts as she reflects on the events in Chamber of Secrets.
Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.
It's centered because I like centered font.
Enjoy.
He was fatal.
Every taste of him she got was pure poison. The sight of him stung her eyes, like fire or acid. The touch of his skin was burning ice. There was nothing sweet about him, and she knew every smile she received was an act. He was mocking her. He was pure bitterness.
But none of that mattered to her. What mattered was that she wanted him. She lusted for his body, loved his soul, and longed for his heart. She wanted every fiber of him to belong to her and only to her, but that wasn't possible.
So she did the next best thing. She gave herself to him. She let him take her heart and mind, and eventually gave her soul and body as well. She would give her whole self to him so he could live.
She was a stupid little girl, carried off by silly romantic fantasies. She thought that surely, surely if she sacrificed herself to him, he would love her memory.
She knew now what a fool she was. He had no soul. He could not love.
No matter how much she wished he could.
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