Pain
She traced patterns on her sheets, eyeing the dismal white of St. Mungo's with no thoughts running across her scattered brain. When she looked up, everything was blurry, and colors were swirling together. It had been that way for a long, long time—longer than she cared to remember, anyhow. There were all these voices…some voices were hectic, others calm, and most just plain out of it. She wondered, briefly, what she, herself, sounded like.
It was hard for her to make sense of what was being said, of course, but she could still make out the tone of voice. It was her only connection to the outside world, these voices, and when they went away, at nighttime, she never felt more alone.
And then there was that sense of longing that nagged her constantly. She thought it was foolish, but she felt as if there was someone calling her, asking her to come to them, and in all honesty, it scared her. Who could, who would, be calling her? She had nobody, nobody but the voices that murmured comforting words to her.
And so Alice Longbottom ignored the feeling that lurked in the pit of her stomach, oblivious to the boy that was longing for his mother's touch, oblivious to the simple fact that his pain was their only connection.
A/N: The word count for this is 221 words, and I hope you enjoyed and review.
