Disclaimer: Characters and such belong to the Almighty JK and all of her
people and such.
Warning: Self- injury involved
It was around 10:00 p.m. during their Christmas break. Most of the school was gone. In fact all of Gryffindor, except Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had gone home.
"Hermione Granger, the perfect little teacher's pet, thats how everyine thinks of me," she said softly to herself. Hermione was alone in her dark dormitory. Harry and Ron weren't speaking to her again for some reason or another, and she was left to herself.
"Everyone thinks I'm so perfect, no one sees how wrong everything is. All they can see are my grades. No one takes the time to see me," she continued crying quietly, "I wonder why even bother sometimes. I hate myself, I hate my life, I wish everything would just feel better."
And then for some reason Hermione remembered a book. It was about people who self-harmed. She recalled their statements, how it made them feel better. Being so desperate, she searched around the room for something sharp with little luck. She found a safety pin, and picked up her wand. With a few words, it became a knife.
Hermione stared at the brilliant silver edge for a moment. She then looked down at the greenish veins in her wrist. She just touched the blade to the skin at first. Its coolness felt exhilirateing against her warm skin. "One little cut won't hurt," she whispered. And watchd as the blade slipped into her skin.
The pain came into her brain, and numbed away her thoughts. She watched as the blood slowly began to fill in the gap she had created. The knife laid forgooten next to her bed. She was enjoying teh satisfaction, the lack of thoughts.
Hermione let it bleed until it started to heal, forming a scab. Her mind was still pleasantly numb from the experience, and she fell asleep, still in her school robes.
Warning: Self- injury involved
It was around 10:00 p.m. during their Christmas break. Most of the school was gone. In fact all of Gryffindor, except Harry, Ron, and Hermione, had gone home.
"Hermione Granger, the perfect little teacher's pet, thats how everyine thinks of me," she said softly to herself. Hermione was alone in her dark dormitory. Harry and Ron weren't speaking to her again for some reason or another, and she was left to herself.
"Everyone thinks I'm so perfect, no one sees how wrong everything is. All they can see are my grades. No one takes the time to see me," she continued crying quietly, "I wonder why even bother sometimes. I hate myself, I hate my life, I wish everything would just feel better."
And then for some reason Hermione remembered a book. It was about people who self-harmed. She recalled their statements, how it made them feel better. Being so desperate, she searched around the room for something sharp with little luck. She found a safety pin, and picked up her wand. With a few words, it became a knife.
Hermione stared at the brilliant silver edge for a moment. She then looked down at the greenish veins in her wrist. She just touched the blade to the skin at first. Its coolness felt exhilirateing against her warm skin. "One little cut won't hurt," she whispered. And watchd as the blade slipped into her skin.
The pain came into her brain, and numbed away her thoughts. She watched as the blood slowly began to fill in the gap she had created. The knife laid forgooten next to her bed. She was enjoying teh satisfaction, the lack of thoughts.
Hermione let it bleed until it started to heal, forming a scab. Her mind was still pleasantly numb from the experience, and she fell asleep, still in her school robes.