School stinks. End of story.
Quote: "Dance first. Think later. It's the natural order." Samuel Beckett
Chapter 8: Spreading
I knew something was wrong. My eyes were open. I was completely, one hundred percent awake. I pinched myself, just to be sure. But I knew, deep inside that something was much more wrong then even I knew.
And maybe, Professor Dumbledore could help.
One might think that it would be nice to have normal teenage problems. Like, gee, I don't know. Drama? But instead, I had a raving murderous man completely convinced that he is my father. Or at least, in my dreams he believed it. Which, really, scared me more than the actual dream itself.
I decided to go to Professor Dumbledore.
"Hello, Professor," and without any other introduction, I began to weave my story of my dreams. And my tattoo, which has grown to encompass not only the underside of my left arm, but also the top of my arm. And my left shoulder.
But it didn't grow suddenly. It was like that when I had woken up from the latest dream. I just hadn't noticed it until Professor Dumbledore asked me to show him my tattoo, and I realized that it had spread.
The intricate, curling pattern I had drawn on the underside continues around my wrist, and to the bottom of my shoulder blade. The rest of the tattoo has a design frightening to me, familiar, but somehow, it eluded me.
It was a tube, coiled at random intervals. The one end folded under near around my wrist, the only place where the two tattoos touched. The other end opened up at my shoulder blade. I could not get a good image of it, and the professor refused to draw it out for me, saying that he cannot draw it properly, and that his artistic skill were... lacking. But he did say that the end opened up, much like a semi-inflated balloon, and at one portion of the opening, a tiny divot, with a red ribbon exuding from that point.
He was intentionally vague, but I understood what he didn't.
It was a snake.
A room, lit by candlelight. An armchair sat in the middle of the room, red, like the eyes that peered out of the dark. The rest of the room was empty. I don't know how, but I knew, for certain, that nobody else was there. We were completely alone. "Can you see what you have done?" The cruel voice of my nightmares echoed across the room. "You have involved the old fool. He cannot do anything now but cause you more pain."
"You would like that," I spat.
"My darling, I would never wish that."
"Then why are you still plaguing me? Haunting me? Creating this horror, this nightmare?"
"Can't you see? It's your destiny." He whispered, awed.
"Then I reject it." I argued.
"You cannot reject it. You are the Dark Lord's daughter. You are the Dark Princess."
"That's stupid."
"No matter, it's true. And you, my dear, will have to come to terms with it soon. You are almost ready for the final stage. Your tattoo will soon be completely filled. And then you will finally come to me."
"In your dreams." I said, with as much venom as I could.
"No. We will both be awake."
Okay, so one last note... I COMPLETELY finished this in the deadline I set for myself, which was today, even though, I may or may not have gone on a shopping spree today, and may or may not have spent all of my money in various stores, and may or may not have had a great time...
So, HA! I still made the deadline, no matter WHAT may or may not have occured.
And no, the mall dinner-plate police did not get me in trouble, though they tried at least three times.
Dancergirl51
