No matter how bad it got she knew it must be concealed. No matter how painful the beatings got no one must know. The slights and remarks cut through her very time. She thought she was inured to them, she never had been. She never would be. All the jibes about her nature and habits sliced through her. Each one felt like a knife. Like a knife being passed through her heart. At school she acted the perfect girl. No one knew about her inner turmoil. They didn't even suspect anything about the bruises. No one noticed the scars. If they did they weren't bothered to say anything.
She had two lives: one at home of pain, one at school of pretence. Which one was her true self? Was she the straight A's student? Or the defeated shell? Which one was real and which was not? She never knew.
Could she really be the victim of an abusive father? Or was she the teacher's pet? Was she going to wake up and realise the other was a dream?
No, neither were dreams, both were real. One covers the other. At school she excelled just to disprove the theory of a violent drunk. Her school life kept her alive at home. When she sat shivering on the bathroom floor blood pouring down her body and pooling on the tiled floor, then she thought of her true home. She thought about her friends. About the way she felt at school. No matter how hard she tried neither life would overcome the other.
Perhaps one day one will win. Perhaps she will drown in a sea of despair and death. Perhaps she will sail away on her school life. Perhaps she will never know. She'll always have the two lives. She'll always live two lies. Though perhaps she will put an end to both. It may be by knife, or even magic. Whatever she does she will never be purely one. If her father won, she would always have her memories of school. If the scholar in her won she would always have the memories of her parents and the memories of so much agony.
So maybe it would be best if she forgot everything. Maybe casting a memory charm on her was the only way out. Though someone would tell her everything.
At this moment she is on a knife-edge. One part is pushing her towards the tower and painless death. The other is pushing her towards the fight of her lives. Which side will win?
When she analysed her life later in the hospital wing after an attempted suicide she reflects on how life is about sides. People may say that the world is united but it never will be. There is the choice of friends to decide which group she will be in. There is the choice of which friend to side with after an argument. Most of the time it's siding over petty things. Like about being chosen for a competition. Though for the unfortunate few it is more.
What she had never thought about was what if she just gave in. Both sides would back down and leave her alone. Both sides would leave her. She would have nothing. Her life would have no meaning. There would be no teacher to please no father to fear.
Most importantly though. She would not have herself.
C'est Fini!
A/N. Well I have no idea where that came from! I was just sitting here at my desk playing on pinball and poof a plot bunny hit me on the head, and DEMANDED to be written up and here is the finished product. Not very good I know but I did try. And I probably did fail too, but meh! Well review and tell me if it's a load of poop or deserves an Oscar (I'm inclined to think its poop).
TTFN
Kylaia.
She had two lives: one at home of pain, one at school of pretence. Which one was her true self? Was she the straight A's student? Or the defeated shell? Which one was real and which was not? She never knew.
Could she really be the victim of an abusive father? Or was she the teacher's pet? Was she going to wake up and realise the other was a dream?
No, neither were dreams, both were real. One covers the other. At school she excelled just to disprove the theory of a violent drunk. Her school life kept her alive at home. When she sat shivering on the bathroom floor blood pouring down her body and pooling on the tiled floor, then she thought of her true home. She thought about her friends. About the way she felt at school. No matter how hard she tried neither life would overcome the other.
Perhaps one day one will win. Perhaps she will drown in a sea of despair and death. Perhaps she will sail away on her school life. Perhaps she will never know. She'll always have the two lives. She'll always live two lies. Though perhaps she will put an end to both. It may be by knife, or even magic. Whatever she does she will never be purely one. If her father won, she would always have her memories of school. If the scholar in her won she would always have the memories of her parents and the memories of so much agony.
So maybe it would be best if she forgot everything. Maybe casting a memory charm on her was the only way out. Though someone would tell her everything.
At this moment she is on a knife-edge. One part is pushing her towards the tower and painless death. The other is pushing her towards the fight of her lives. Which side will win?
When she analysed her life later in the hospital wing after an attempted suicide she reflects on how life is about sides. People may say that the world is united but it never will be. There is the choice of friends to decide which group she will be in. There is the choice of which friend to side with after an argument. Most of the time it's siding over petty things. Like about being chosen for a competition. Though for the unfortunate few it is more.
What she had never thought about was what if she just gave in. Both sides would back down and leave her alone. Both sides would leave her. She would have nothing. Her life would have no meaning. There would be no teacher to please no father to fear.
Most importantly though. She would not have herself.
C'est Fini!
A/N. Well I have no idea where that came from! I was just sitting here at my desk playing on pinball and poof a plot bunny hit me on the head, and DEMANDED to be written up and here is the finished product. Not very good I know but I did try. And I probably did fail too, but meh! Well review and tell me if it's a load of poop or deserves an Oscar (I'm inclined to think its poop).
TTFN
Kylaia.