*GASP* No, it's you? No way. I thought you died? Nah I'm still alive. *Pitchforks* Or maybe not. It's been a busy year, I haven't written at all. But in the past few months, I've been thinking about needing a creative outlet. I've spent quite a bit of time trying things like dancing or singing. Things I'm not very good at mind you. Then I remembered, writing. So this was just a little practice, a story I had already written, but this time, written by an older me. I'm in college now. It's quite surreal. Enjoy.
"We humans do, when the cause is sufficient, spend our lives. We throw ourselves onto the grenade to save our buddies in the foxhole. We rise out of the trenches and charge the entreched enemy and die like maggots under a blowtorch. We strap bombs on our bodies and blow ourselves up in the midst of our enemies. We are, when the cause is sufficient, insane."
-Orson Scott Card
There's a steady drip falling from the ceiling. Drip. Drip. Drip. Like cruel, maniacal laughter of my past, the drips reverberate, cutting off my thoughts. This cell, this, this hellhole. Why am I here? The world was in turmoil, mysterious deaths, friends being tortured and yet...I had my own small piece of sanity. Life was difficult, but things were slowly falling into place. Even with all the darkness, I had the smallest pinpricks of light to continue surviving.
Is this where my road will end? After all the twists and turns of my life, all the wrong and right choices...is this where I'm meant to stay? Is there some bloody higher power that determines our fate from the moment we are born? Is the road we take an endless maze of deception? All roads leading to the same consequence, no matter what. The thought is depressing and all I can do is sit here, helpless.
This is all my fault. If I stay here for decades, go mad and forget why I'm even here, it will still always be my fault. But I know insanity is not my fate. Oh no, to go insane is for those with happy thoughts residing within them. The Dementors will feed on those poor fools, sucking them dry until all that is left is an empty shell of bad memories. All memories of a happy past, gone, like the last evidence of a heavy rainstorm. But happiness has no place in my mind. My past, the Marauders, the only girl I ever truly loved, the life I once lived, all gone. There is no need to dwell on memories that will only feed the Dementors.
All that is left is guilt, pain and revenge. Insanity would never numb my pain, the guilt is too strong, the pain too cutting, the thirst for revenge too encompassing. There will be times, I realize, that I will be only moments away from being another nut job. But this need for revenge will save me. I will never be taken from myself.
The rain is back. I hear the rain. In my past, the rain soothed me. I could always tell when a rainstorm was coming, I could feel the atmosphere change, I could always anticipate the first drip. I would try to count the raindrops, never succeeding, always too impatient, never thinking I had enough time. Time...I now have all the time in the world to count raindrops. Funny. My laugh sounds different now. Older. Cynical even. Only days before my laugh had been years younger, sincere and full of joy.
It's funny, really. My first night and I am already thinking about insanity, about the difference in my laughter. If I stay here longer...what would happen? Longer, I will be here longer. Longer than my time at Hogwarts, longer than the time Slughorn gave me detention for that one frog incident during 6th year. Longer than the entirety of the life I have already lived.
They should at least have food. Or Butterbeer. Merlin, I would even go for a Firewhiskey around now. Come to think of it, if I don't get food soon, I might have to eat that huge rat starting at me. What a depressing thought. I would much rather skin Wormtail alive, I would not mind roasting him over a fire. I hate rats.
Dementor? Food. Or brown stuff with some kind of gelatinous liquid. Appetizing. Maybe I'll take the rat. Maybe if I was actually insane I would be able to stomach this shit...no I'm not going to think that way.
James, Lily, I miss you. Remus, I'm sorry that I didn't believe you mate. One day I'll have my revenge. But that day, it's not now, it's not going to be for a long time. So I'll be counting raindrops until then.
