Chapter Two

Her vision narrowed to a dim tunnel and her breathing sped up. The owl pecked at the window again. She moved slowly to the window to let it in. She pulled the letter off and it bit her finger again. The pain was familiar and she merely glared at it before it flew off. A drop of blood from the cut fell onto the letter, staining a corner of the pristine white paper. She ignored it, she had had much, much worse. She sat on the couch, one that had come with the apartment. It had a funny smell that she didn't usually notice. But now she was hyper aware of everything around her. It had been almost a year since the last letter.

The one that saved her life.

She didn't want to read this one. It would only remind her. She had locked it all away. She did not want to think of Him again.

He was the only one who really understood. The only one who was as empty as she was.

She still hated Him for what He had done.

Now she hated Him for reminding her of it again.

She opened the letter, waiting for the familiar handwriting to fill her mind. But this time it was different. His hand had been shaking. She had only seen this type of writing once before. After His mother had been killed. He had been very, very angry then. She wasn't sure if she could handle more of His anger. She was angry enough at Him for writing her in the first place. He was supposed to stay in the world she had left behind.

She missed Him so much it hurt again.

The anger at Him for causing the hurt made her pick up the page to read his words.

You're wondering why this came, now of all times. I wish I knew myself. You weren't supposed to be there. It couldn't have been you. You live across the country from this place.
No, I haven't been spying on you. I just know. I always know where you are. You are a part of me, just as I am a part of you. We always have been each others other half, you know.
I hate me too. With every breath I take I know I should be dead.
It wasn't you.
She was blonde, raven haired, the other a tall red-head.
You aren't. I won't let you be anything but what you were then. You know when I mean. I know you're remembering it as I speak.
But then again, I know you're not. You won't let yourself. Just like me. We are so alike. Two peas in a pod as the muggles say. You didn't leave it behind. I know you still have it. Let it go. Let me go.
I hate you. With every breath. I hate you because you are me and I am you and I loathe myself. If I see you again, I will kill you. Stay away from me. I mean it. Stay on your own side of the country.
I hate you. You disgust me, each breath you take is foul, blacker than my soul.
I do. Don't shake your head. And don't say it.

please don't say it.

"I love you too." She whispered into the air, then collapsed into a dead faint.

She awoke to the sunset out the window. She stumbled to the kitchen, groggy from the sleep she did not usually partake in. Only the movement could keep away the darkness. For a few hours she was free of everything. Nothing could touch her.

He had tainted it.

She knew something would eventually. She was not allowed to have anything anymore. She gave up that right the day no one listened. The day she became covered in blood. When she became indebted to Him.

She ate mechanically. Someone had actually spoken to her, told her she was too thin. She looked at herself in another mirror. She did not recognize herself. She rarely did anymore. The haunted eyes scared her, staring out of a too-thin face. It was pale, she spent no time in the sun. The lips were cracked and light, they were almost non-existent. Her throat was thin, her shoulders bony. She pulled the clothing from her body to look at it. The skin hung on her frame, bones overly-prominent. Her breasts had shrunk to the size of a young girls, every rib could be counted. Her hip bones looked sharp and jagged without the fat that had been there, she could faintly remember complaining about it a bit at some point to two faces that refused to clear. Faces that had laughed with her. Her legs were still fairly long, but gone were the thighs and shapely calves. Her feet even looked too small.

She had become a skeleton.

But one that refused to stop breathing.

She pulled her clothing back on, refusing to succumb to the shivers. She would not dance tonight. It was not because of him, she told herself firmly. He was across the country.

Instead, she walked to her room and pulled out the small box. It held a picture. Three young children, two boys and a girl smiled at the camera, their arms awkwardly around each other. She set it aside and pulled out the next object. Three chunks of hair, carefully braided together. One black as coal, one red as fire, the third a rich brown. She remembered they had called her crazy when she cut them from the bodies, then a locket of her own. The next day she cut all her hair off. The third item was a folded piece of paper, worn through in a few places. She did not open it, the entire thing was already drawn in sharp detail in her mind. She knew the names she wanted to read there would not be there, so she did not open it. The last thing she pulled from the box was a yellowed handkerchief. She unfolded it slowly, carefully. Inside was a beautiful sapphire and silver necklace in the shape of a crescent moon. She lifted it from the handkerchief and let it dangle from her fingers. It had never been worn, it had been too painful at the time. She laughed bitterly at herself. She had no idea what pain was then. What it really meant to have a hole ripped in your heart, a hole that could never be filled because it belonged to two people who were never coming back. Two people she should have gone with.

She didn't think she could ever forgive Him for that. For robbing her of that chance. They were her life and they had gone, leaving her.

She let the tears fall for the first time since that day. Through her tears, the necklace caught the light, sending sparkles spinning through the air.

She carefully repacked the box, leaving the handkerchief for last.

He wanted her to let Him go.

She wanted Him to be as miserable as she was.

She clasped the necklace around her neck, then apparated. She knew where He would be. She always knew. He had surprised her the first time, and again the second. She hadn't let herself think of Him. The third time she had glared at Him the entire time. He refused to meet her eyes, but He could not keep Himself away from her. He growled at any other person that came close to her. He left when she did. When the lights turned on. They did not speak. He went to one side of the country, she the other.

This time, she would not let Him leave her again. She was going to make Him miserable. Make His existence as terrible as hers. She would make Him hate her again, as she would hate Him. Only hate. Nothing else was allowed anymore.

She opened her eyes to see His inches away. Her hand flew up before the thought finished crossing her mind. She felt her finger snap as she slapped Him.

Then His lips closed over hers and everything else stopped.