Chapter 8
I do not know how long I have laid here on the bed. Minutes, hours, or days it makes no difference. Time seems to stand still. The vodka and my memories mix creating new demons and making me relive the old. Shadows dance across the room, calling my name. I feel tired and not just in my body. My mind is tired. My very soul is tired. Sleep would be the closet thing to heaven right now, but all I have to do is close my eyes and I am back there. Down in the darkest dungeon. Down in my own personal hell. I can still see the gleam of happiness in Malfoy's eyes has he tortured me. Someone was ringing my doorbell earlier. I did not answer and they went away. Good. I do not want to see anybody. The vodka helps. Keeps me from remembering to feel pain. I raise the bottle to my lips and find its empty. I could go get some more. There is a store right down the street. I could go but the thought of having to interact with people is too much. I think I will just stay here forever. They will find my rotting body still on the bed years from now. The ministry will shake its head and go on. Nothing will change and no one will care. Except mum but she has to care. She is my mother. God I have to piss! The vodka has really affected me and I stumble down the hall. Crashing into walls and chairs. I don't even make it back to the bedroom. I collapse on the living room floor. And I sleep. I sleep and I dream of cold dudgeons, demons, and cruel gray eyes staring at me from the dark.
