fleshed out version of Invisible
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DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters… I don't own anything much actually… well a car, but that costs too much… ho hum, yes, everything you recognise is JKR's… go her!! Remember this disclaimer for the rest of the story, cos I really can't be arsed to type it out again…..
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RE: reviews
I just got the BESTEST review from XOX on Invisible. You have no idea how happy that made me!! I'm sitting here at work with a big stupid grin on my face and getting weird looks… thank you sweetie!! x x x I have to keep us my enigmatic oddness after all…… ;)
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ONE – INSTANTLY FORGOTTEN* * * * * * * * * * * *
You're either dipping your toe Or you're drowningIs it better never to start
Than to bear the pain
Of having to stop
Halfway to the bottom
Instantly forgotten
I never thought it would come
So easy
I never thought it would go
so quickly
is it safer never to love
than to risk your heart
having to lose
halfway to the bottom
instantly forgotten
I don't know
Which way to go
Is it wiser never to speak
Than to raise your voice
And never be heard
Halfway to the Bottom – Aqualung
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I cry. I cry while I still can. It hurts. He knows it hurts, but he doesn't stop. He smiles. I crouch, covering my face, covering the tears that continue to fall. He mustn't see. Mustn't know how weak I am. Finally it's over; he leaves. Mustn't shout, mustn't wail. He'll come back if he hears me. He'll do it again. I curl up, scared, alone. I tremble, unable to sleep, unable to think. Nothingness.
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I know I'm nearly late. But I almost don't care. Almost. If I miss the train I'll have to go back. I don't want to go back, can't. With a last effort, I push the trolley through the crowds and towards the barrier. One last effort, one last effort and I can relax. Away from the Muggle world, I'll be safe. Then I'm through. The steam from the express is clouding the platform, shapes and forms arise from the darkness, moving about, carrying trunks, shouting. I smile. Home.
I find an empty carriage and settle myself in the corner by the window, it's quiet here, peaceful. I risk a small smile. Resting my head against the window is almost comfortable, until the bruise on my cheek comes into contact with the gold glass. I lift the hood of my cloak, hiding my face, pulling it down low. The darkness is comforting. The dark and the warmth and the gentle motion of the express as it starts on the northwards journey gently lull me to sleep.
A fist. An iron fist and a cold laugh. It hurts so much. I can hear myself scream, feel myself falling… falling…
"Wake up!" he's shouting.
I know it was a dream then, shaking I sit up. I've landed on the floor. There are hands on me, on my shoulders, shaking me. I flinch away and they're removed. I'm crying, I can feel the tears streaming down my face.
"It's okay," he whispers, tentatively stroking a hand down my back. He doesn't realise. He doesn't know. It's not okay.
"It was a bad dream," I whisper. "A nightmare. I'm fine." I struggle to stand and the hood falls from my face, he catches me as I stumble.
"Katie?" he whispers. "What's happened to you?"
I can see the sorrow in his face, the pity. It isn't comforting. It makes me angry. He can see. He can see how weak I am.
"Nothing," I hiss. "I'm just fine." Oh god, tell him the truth. He'll help. He'll make it better. Ha. No. It's better than no one knows. I brush away his hands and sit back down. He sits beside me, close, too close; I can feel the heat of his skin.
"What happened?" his hand is creeping across my lap; despite myself I reach for him, finding comfort in the warmth of those smooth hands. I cling to him, seeking the warmth, seeking the understanding. He lets me. Lets me sit, doesn't force me to speak. But eventually it comes tumbling out.
"My brother…" I whisper. I wipe my eyes, but the tears don't come, they're long since spent.
"He did this to you? Your brother?" he asks, his blue eyes wide, his fingers gently stroking my face, the bruise. I nod quietly, unable to offer anymore. "Did he…" he starts. I know what's coming.
"No," I manage. "No, he didn't do anything else. He just hits me,"
"What about your parents?" he whispers to me as he clutches my hand tightly and runs his other hand through his dark hair.
"I… my brother brought me up…" I manage.
He doesn't ask, the look on his face says it all. He's never asked, and now he's wondering why. Why he hasn't asked me after seven years of working together, living together, playing Quidditch together. He never asked. I was invisible to him. Somehow the bruise has ridden me of the transparency. Now he sees. Now I'm not invisible. He can't stop looking at me now. Somewhere, deep down, I feel pleased. Grateful. I'm not invisible anymore. Then I feel ashamed. Pity, that's all he feels. Pity. And shame. Nothing else. Nothing. I snatch my hand away.
"What?" he asks, worry reaching those blue eyes. "What did I say?"
I'm ignoring him, gazing out the window again.
Halfway to the bottom
Instantly forgotten
I never thought it would come
So easy
I never thought it would go
so quickly
is it safer never to love
than to risk your heart
having to lose
Yes, it's safer never to love. Why, when you know it will end in tears? One way or the other. All relationships end don't they… even if it's forced by death. Why begin something for it to end? I ignore his voice - ignore those worried eyes. I've loved him for seven years. But no, I don't want his pity, his shame. Instantly forgotten. I'm invisible to him now.
"Go away Oliver," I hiss under my breath.
"But…" he starts, clearly confused. Instantly forgotten
"Go AWAY!" I say, louder, more forceful.
He stands up to leave. I'm safe now. He's gone. It's safer never to love, than to risk your heart.
Instantly forgotten.
Invisible to him.