Yea, yea, Harry Potter influenced characters aren't mine. Layla is though. Mine. MINE!
I woke up this morning, and I immediately knew what day it was. Its my
"anniversary" I guess if you will, well, if you're into that whole emotional masochism thing.
My five year anniversary. Five whole years since I lost her. Five years since my world came
apart.
Every year on this exact date I crack open a bottle of Jack Daniel's and don't
stop chugging until I pass out. I'm not usually a heavy drinker. Its just around this time of
year, the memories are too strong. I need someway to forget, and drinking myself into oblivion
is as good a way as any. Well, maybe not, but it works for me.
Tomorrow Remus will come over. He knows about my ritual, he's had to save me
from drowning in my own vomit a few times, so by now he has no sympathy. Last year he threw a
bucket of water on me, and I almost had a heart attack.
"Sirius!" he'll scream and violently shake me. "This is really getting old!"
I mean, maybe he's right. Maybe it is getting old. It has been five years.
But, I haven't met anyone like her, even the littlest bit like her, and most likely I never will. So I sulk. I sulk because of what we had, and I sulk for what we could have had if I hadn't screwed things up.
She had the most wonderful spirit, she really did. One like I'd never seen before. She could
make a bad situation look just a little better, even if it was just by smiling. And what a
beautiful smile she had. God, it was beautiful.
DAMN! I'm doing it again. I'm letting the memories take over again. This
happens every year. That's why every year I get piss drunk. You'll see why, once I'm through.
********************
I met Layla when she was bartending at The Hogshead, although when I first set
eyes on her, I thought she was nothing more than a bar wench. She had long dark hair and olive
skin, and a very pretty face, but that was all. I had not expected someone to captivate me so,
and at first I was very unwilling.
"What can I get ya?" she mused, as I sat down at the bar.
"Nothing at the moment. Just a light for my cigarette." I said and leaned over.
"Sure," she'd said, with a tone of disapproval. That irked me a bit, who the
hell was she to judge? She was a mere bartender, not much of an authority on anyone. But she
handed me a light, and I sat back then, thinking about my day.
"So...teacher at the school?" she asked me, and I chuckled a bit.
"Not quite." I'd answered. I didn't feel the need to elaborate. Obviously
that was a good enough answer for her though, because she nodded.
"You're new in town, are you?"
"No, I just travel a lot. It comes with the--"
"Why do you smoke?" she asked totally cutting me off. I stared at her for a
moment.
"Um...why not?"
"I'll tell you why not. Its a nasty habit, and I find it absolutely disgusting."
"And, who asked you?" I asked, as a took a long drag on my cigarette. I blew
out the smoke practically in her face. As you can tell, I was not terribly impressed with her
at first glance.
"Well, no one in particular, but I thought I'd just offer you some friendly
advice." she said and put down the dishrag she was using to wipe the bar top with. She stared
into my eyes when she said that, as if to challenge me.
"We're not friends."
I don't know how we ended up in bed that night, but she wasn't half bad. Maybe
it was all the Jack I was drinking that made me jump into bed with her, and maybe that's why I
drink it to this day, because it reminds me of that first night. But whatever the reason,
that's how it started. And if I'd known how badly it would have ended, I would have never
dropped into the bar that night, or any other night for that matter.
I woke up this morning, and I immediately knew what day it was. Its my
"anniversary" I guess if you will, well, if you're into that whole emotional masochism thing.
My five year anniversary. Five whole years since I lost her. Five years since my world came
apart.
Every year on this exact date I crack open a bottle of Jack Daniel's and don't
stop chugging until I pass out. I'm not usually a heavy drinker. Its just around this time of
year, the memories are too strong. I need someway to forget, and drinking myself into oblivion
is as good a way as any. Well, maybe not, but it works for me.
Tomorrow Remus will come over. He knows about my ritual, he's had to save me
from drowning in my own vomit a few times, so by now he has no sympathy. Last year he threw a
bucket of water on me, and I almost had a heart attack.
"Sirius!" he'll scream and violently shake me. "This is really getting old!"
I mean, maybe he's right. Maybe it is getting old. It has been five years.
But, I haven't met anyone like her, even the littlest bit like her, and most likely I never will. So I sulk. I sulk because of what we had, and I sulk for what we could have had if I hadn't screwed things up.
She had the most wonderful spirit, she really did. One like I'd never seen before. She could
make a bad situation look just a little better, even if it was just by smiling. And what a
beautiful smile she had. God, it was beautiful.
DAMN! I'm doing it again. I'm letting the memories take over again. This
happens every year. That's why every year I get piss drunk. You'll see why, once I'm through.
********************
I met Layla when she was bartending at The Hogshead, although when I first set
eyes on her, I thought she was nothing more than a bar wench. She had long dark hair and olive
skin, and a very pretty face, but that was all. I had not expected someone to captivate me so,
and at first I was very unwilling.
"What can I get ya?" she mused, as I sat down at the bar.
"Nothing at the moment. Just a light for my cigarette." I said and leaned over.
"Sure," she'd said, with a tone of disapproval. That irked me a bit, who the
hell was she to judge? She was a mere bartender, not much of an authority on anyone. But she
handed me a light, and I sat back then, thinking about my day.
"So...teacher at the school?" she asked me, and I chuckled a bit.
"Not quite." I'd answered. I didn't feel the need to elaborate. Obviously
that was a good enough answer for her though, because she nodded.
"You're new in town, are you?"
"No, I just travel a lot. It comes with the--"
"Why do you smoke?" she asked totally cutting me off. I stared at her for a
moment.
"Um...why not?"
"I'll tell you why not. Its a nasty habit, and I find it absolutely disgusting."
"And, who asked you?" I asked, as a took a long drag on my cigarette. I blew
out the smoke practically in her face. As you can tell, I was not terribly impressed with her
at first glance.
"Well, no one in particular, but I thought I'd just offer you some friendly
advice." she said and put down the dishrag she was using to wipe the bar top with. She stared
into my eyes when she said that, as if to challenge me.
"We're not friends."
I don't know how we ended up in bed that night, but she wasn't half bad. Maybe
it was all the Jack I was drinking that made me jump into bed with her, and maybe that's why I
drink it to this day, because it reminds me of that first night. But whatever the reason,
that's how it started. And if I'd known how badly it would have ended, I would have never
dropped into the bar that night, or any other night for that matter.