As you make your bed, so you must lie in it.
-English Proverb Sayings of British Origin
Sometimes you must be cruel to be kind.
-English Proverb Sayings of British Origin
~*~
And so she knew it.
Except she really didn't.
She knew that sometimes you have to just quit, just surrender, just fall back onto the hard ground. But she knew, also, that it is harder than it looks.
For sometimes, it hurts to go, and it hurts to stay.
And sometimes, it's hard to draw the line. The line between good and evil. The line between right and wrong. The line between what "must" be done and what "should" be done. The line between love and hate.
The line that is drawn all around the world.
She wondered. She wondered how the whole thing started, how she fell so deep in such a small amount of time. How she allowed him to treat her in such a pathetic manner.
How much to put up with? How much to sell-out? How much to disregard yourself?
He had done the Unspeakable. He had been going against her back; he had been seeing Pansy Parkinson. The popular Slytherin girl with black licorice curly hair. And then she figured it out, all of the lying, all of the "going bar hopping" all of the visits. Putting two and two together she realized that the man she thought she was in love with was nothing more than a pitiful, filthy, trader. To her credit, she tried.
"Dray," she told him, "please. I love you too much. I'm not willing to share-" but she said it in such a way that said "You can treat me like dirt, and I'll stay."
He didn't respect that. Not one bit.
Heck, even she didn't respect that.
The unfaithfulness continued many crystal tears littered her pillow at night. She decided that it was her time to leave him that she would have no more of it! 'Lo and behold, however, fate played her a dirty card. Fate played her that night.
"Don't do this to me!" she yelled, standing on her tiptoes, and making perfect eye contact with steel blue eyes.
"I'm doing nothing to you!" he said in utter indignation "You're doing this to yourself!"
Pondering this for no more than a second her retort was, "Do you love me? Do you honestly love me, Dray?"
He looked down at the concrete floor and blinked.
"You've never loved me have you?" she questioned her voice quieting, "Wow. You fooled me. Tricked me. Good. You win."
Shooting her a questioning look he brought his lips to hers.
For that exact moment she hated him. Every single part of him. From his mussed up blond hair, to his prefect's badge. And for that moment, it didn't really matter. Her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. He pulled her closer, she didn't object.
When the two were successfully breathless, they pulled apart just ever so slightly.
"But that doesn't sol-" she said, breathing deeply and leaning against the crimson wall.
"Shhh," he said putting two long pale fingers to her chapped lips.
That was all she remembered from that night. It was all she wanted to remember.
She knew that that should have been the night she said: "Enough! Enough of this!" And she knew that was the night that she didn't.
It came to the point where even if she -wanted- to break up with him, she couldn't. She had so much at stake, she had her whole heart. It was some sort of risky bargain. Some game that never should have began in the first place. Crying under the covers, so no one soul could here she would muse about the good times.
The times before he'd say: "I've got to go, some friends and I are going-" he paused "out." The times when even the simplest things like buttering toast together, or walking hand in hand was a big deal. When he'd look at her like he actually loved her-heart and all. When they'd sit out in the open field and he'd make her that silly little daisy necklace.
The fates had dealt her in, and she was stuck, in this terrible whirlwind of emotions. Her whole self-worth was judged on Him. And only Him.
And then, as the world comes crashing to a desperate end. There always is, that last straw. The thing that just makes you break. The thing that finally makes you say, "No more. Ever. Ever again." There comes a time when the thing that should have been stopped 'so' long ago is finally stopped. Finally. The time when the wrong must pay. When justice must be done. When you've taken all you can take. When you've given all you can give. When you've died as many times as you can. When your heart is so weak it feels like it's about ready to go out.
Sadly, it had to happen the drafty night in a distant corridor unbeknownst to almost everyone who attended Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had to happen when they were alone. It was an accident, really, a mere coincidence that she happened to be walking past the library and saw him.
"What are you do-" she asked.
But before she had time to finish a fisted hand made contact with her lip and crimson blood began pouring from the spot. She blinked back the tears, as she looked him straight in the eye.
"What was that for? What did I ever do to deserve that?"
"How could you ever think you'd be able to compete with Pansy?" he retorted caustically.
She tried to stop the blood coming from the blood as she blotted it with her white blouse.
"I guess we know now," she said and then paused as to say the thing she'd been wanting to say forever, "-that's it over. That it will always be over. You can go off with Pansy, and have children and live in a manor and have that fabulous life that I've merely dreamed of! And then, while your at it you can go throw yourself off the nearest bloody mountain!" Her face turned bitter as she turned her back to him.
Roughly, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. "Pity, isn't it?" he questioned, to no one in particular, "how you finally realize that, no doubt, I've been using you the whole time and now it's too late isn't it?"
"Too late?" she whispered.
"Too late," he muttered softly as he slammed head against the whitewashed wall. Falling onto the ground after the blow she lay curled up in a tiny ball.
He looked at her and laughed a heartless little laugh, as her mind began to think rapidly.
What about Mummy and Daddy?
Is there a Heaven?
Does it hurt to die?
The pain grew more intense, and she couldn't bring her hand up to feel the bleeding spot on her temple. She simply lay. Just existing, no longer a heart in tow.
He took one more look at her and said disdainfully, "You do know, don't you? That I've never loved you."
Paled considerably, he left. Leaving her alone. In the cold drafty corridor. Leaving her to die. Leaving her to bleed to death on the cold stone floor.
And it was supposed to be THEN that was supposed to be the end of the relationship. Now it was no longer the end of the relationship, but the end of her life.
Breathing hurt as she clutched her chest for air. In a heap, she curled her knees up to her chest. Whimpering slightly putting her back against the wall.
So this is how it would be. To die. Alone. In some empty corridor where everyone would look for you and no one would 'know' what happened. You'd fade away into a lost memory. You took too much. And now it was ALL too much. Would anyone cry at your funeral?
Looking up at the ceiling her breath grew shorter, her voice hurt but she managed to spew out the very message of this story:
"I didn't deserve it," she said slowly.
Her eyes slowly fluttered shut. Never to be opened again.
~*~
-English Proverb Sayings of British Origin
Sometimes you must be cruel to be kind.
-English Proverb Sayings of British Origin
~*~
And so she knew it.
Except she really didn't.
She knew that sometimes you have to just quit, just surrender, just fall back onto the hard ground. But she knew, also, that it is harder than it looks.
For sometimes, it hurts to go, and it hurts to stay.
And sometimes, it's hard to draw the line. The line between good and evil. The line between right and wrong. The line between what "must" be done and what "should" be done. The line between love and hate.
The line that is drawn all around the world.
She wondered. She wondered how the whole thing started, how she fell so deep in such a small amount of time. How she allowed him to treat her in such a pathetic manner.
How much to put up with? How much to sell-out? How much to disregard yourself?
He had done the Unspeakable. He had been going against her back; he had been seeing Pansy Parkinson. The popular Slytherin girl with black licorice curly hair. And then she figured it out, all of the lying, all of the "going bar hopping" all of the visits. Putting two and two together she realized that the man she thought she was in love with was nothing more than a pitiful, filthy, trader. To her credit, she tried.
"Dray," she told him, "please. I love you too much. I'm not willing to share-" but she said it in such a way that said "You can treat me like dirt, and I'll stay."
He didn't respect that. Not one bit.
Heck, even she didn't respect that.
The unfaithfulness continued many crystal tears littered her pillow at night. She decided that it was her time to leave him that she would have no more of it! 'Lo and behold, however, fate played her a dirty card. Fate played her that night.
"Don't do this to me!" she yelled, standing on her tiptoes, and making perfect eye contact with steel blue eyes.
"I'm doing nothing to you!" he said in utter indignation "You're doing this to yourself!"
Pondering this for no more than a second her retort was, "Do you love me? Do you honestly love me, Dray?"
He looked down at the concrete floor and blinked.
"You've never loved me have you?" she questioned her voice quieting, "Wow. You fooled me. Tricked me. Good. You win."
Shooting her a questioning look he brought his lips to hers.
For that exact moment she hated him. Every single part of him. From his mussed up blond hair, to his prefect's badge. And for that moment, it didn't really matter. Her eyes widened and her cheeks reddened. He pulled her closer, she didn't object.
When the two were successfully breathless, they pulled apart just ever so slightly.
"But that doesn't sol-" she said, breathing deeply and leaning against the crimson wall.
"Shhh," he said putting two long pale fingers to her chapped lips.
That was all she remembered from that night. It was all she wanted to remember.
She knew that that should have been the night she said: "Enough! Enough of this!" And she knew that was the night that she didn't.
It came to the point where even if she -wanted- to break up with him, she couldn't. She had so much at stake, she had her whole heart. It was some sort of risky bargain. Some game that never should have began in the first place. Crying under the covers, so no one soul could here she would muse about the good times.
The times before he'd say: "I've got to go, some friends and I are going-" he paused "out." The times when even the simplest things like buttering toast together, or walking hand in hand was a big deal. When he'd look at her like he actually loved her-heart and all. When they'd sit out in the open field and he'd make her that silly little daisy necklace.
The fates had dealt her in, and she was stuck, in this terrible whirlwind of emotions. Her whole self-worth was judged on Him. And only Him.
And then, as the world comes crashing to a desperate end. There always is, that last straw. The thing that just makes you break. The thing that finally makes you say, "No more. Ever. Ever again." There comes a time when the thing that should have been stopped 'so' long ago is finally stopped. Finally. The time when the wrong must pay. When justice must be done. When you've taken all you can take. When you've given all you can give. When you've died as many times as you can. When your heart is so weak it feels like it's about ready to go out.
Sadly, it had to happen the drafty night in a distant corridor unbeknownst to almost everyone who attended Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It had to happen when they were alone. It was an accident, really, a mere coincidence that she happened to be walking past the library and saw him.
"What are you do-" she asked.
But before she had time to finish a fisted hand made contact with her lip and crimson blood began pouring from the spot. She blinked back the tears, as she looked him straight in the eye.
"What was that for? What did I ever do to deserve that?"
"How could you ever think you'd be able to compete with Pansy?" he retorted caustically.
She tried to stop the blood coming from the blood as she blotted it with her white blouse.
"I guess we know now," she said and then paused as to say the thing she'd been wanting to say forever, "-that's it over. That it will always be over. You can go off with Pansy, and have children and live in a manor and have that fabulous life that I've merely dreamed of! And then, while your at it you can go throw yourself off the nearest bloody mountain!" Her face turned bitter as she turned her back to him.
Roughly, he grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her back. "Pity, isn't it?" he questioned, to no one in particular, "how you finally realize that, no doubt, I've been using you the whole time and now it's too late isn't it?"
"Too late?" she whispered.
"Too late," he muttered softly as he slammed head against the whitewashed wall. Falling onto the ground after the blow she lay curled up in a tiny ball.
He looked at her and laughed a heartless little laugh, as her mind began to think rapidly.
What about Mummy and Daddy?
Is there a Heaven?
Does it hurt to die?
The pain grew more intense, and she couldn't bring her hand up to feel the bleeding spot on her temple. She simply lay. Just existing, no longer a heart in tow.
He took one more look at her and said disdainfully, "You do know, don't you? That I've never loved you."
Paled considerably, he left. Leaving her alone. In the cold drafty corridor. Leaving her to die. Leaving her to bleed to death on the cold stone floor.
And it was supposed to be THEN that was supposed to be the end of the relationship. Now it was no longer the end of the relationship, but the end of her life.
Breathing hurt as she clutched her chest for air. In a heap, she curled her knees up to her chest. Whimpering slightly putting her back against the wall.
So this is how it would be. To die. Alone. In some empty corridor where everyone would look for you and no one would 'know' what happened. You'd fade away into a lost memory. You took too much. And now it was ALL too much. Would anyone cry at your funeral?
Looking up at the ceiling her breath grew shorter, her voice hurt but she managed to spew out the very message of this story:
"I didn't deserve it," she said slowly.
Her eyes slowly fluttered shut. Never to be opened again.
~*~