12/06/11: Betaed by my wonderful beta - Raven of Red Wings
A/N: Hey everyone! So this is my first Harry Potter fanfic and it is EXTREMELY DARK. Heed this warning carefully. This story will contain mature content. Other than that, review, I'd like to hear what you all think. This chapter is really short, because this story is a test run. The next chapters will be considerably longer. Thanks everyone.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything because my name is not J.K Rowling. Unfortunately.
Chapter One: Lost Souls
Draco:
I walk up and down the street, once, twice, thrice. Lose count, start all over. Can't really breathe properly, too many smokers around and the smog never really helped my lungs. I can't feel my insides.
I'm at a hundred and the homeless guy in the corner is starting to leer at me, so I walk on into the subway, wait, wait, wait, hop onto the train when it comes. I can't sit still, so I jiggle my leg. Bad habits always make me feel the best about myself. But really, I don't feel anything at all.
I try to fall into the step of the traffic, try to follow everyone out. Barely manage that and still I'm lost. No idea where I'm going, why I'm here, where I'm supposed to be. Am I really living?
I'm pushed and shoved through the throng of people rushing by on the street. This is the best kind of lost, no one really notices you and no one really gives a damn. Why would they? They're too busy to even notice themselves.
I carry myself to a park completely out of the way of my life, my apartment and the city itself. I like the inconvenience; it's something to do differently. I don't know the name of this place or the place where it's located. I prefer it. I don't know it, it doesn't know me. Being unknown is the safest way to be.
Here I sit, watch life go by. It's not like watching life in the city, here I can see how life destroys the unnecessary. This place has been abandoned for years, I can tell. No one but me comes here, that much I know. It's been abandoned by the world, just like me. It's as if we belong together.
I don't need to think here, no. What are my thoughts worth anyways? Thoughts aren't worth anything, people aren't either. But I'm not even a person anymore. Does that make me worth less? I think so. It's safe to be nothing.
Back to the city I go, living just a little more. One breath at a time is all I can manage. This is still difficult, the breathing part. Existing was never easy, though, since birth. At this thought, I shudder, but just pretend it's from the October chill. I still can't feel myself. Am I still real?
Hours later, I'm in a place that's familiar but not so very much. I want to be scared and hurt, but I can't feel it still. It's all gone. I see the number on the door that's supposed to be mine, but I'm not sure why. There are keys in my pocket, so I open the door. There is food on the table, but it seems like too much for me to eat all by myself. I'm not hungry, anyways. I don't deserve to eat, as it is. I don't deserve to be here. Why? I don't remember.
Must it be like that?
I lay myself on the bed that's in a room off to the side, a little. I don't remove the covers, just lay myself neatly over them, trying not to crinkle them. I fold my hands over my stomach and stare at the ceiling, waiting to sleep and die. Waiting to wake up and be born again.