Smashed Glass

By: VoldemortsIllegitimateChild

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          Ginny Weasley paced around the small confines of her bedroom. It used to be her brother Ron's, which accounted for the bright orange color, so bright she was forced to close her eyes. Her throat ached from screaming, and she was left with an overwhelming anger that was too big for her small body. She felt as if she were going to explode.

She opened her eyes. The gifts he gave her were everywhere. The decorative fan from Spain, leather jacket from Italy, and diamond necklace from Antwerp mocked her, laughing cruelly. She longed to do something destructive and powerful, like throw them all through the window, and smash the glass completely. But she didn't. Instead, she sat on the bed, trying to calm down.

She tried to think happy thoughts, but every good moment, feeling, emotion, and memory were all tied to him. And then she would recall different things, painful ones, right down to the most painful one of all…

He stood facing her, his hands in the pockets of his expensive suit. His eyes held no thoughts, conveyed no emotion. Hers were wet with tears. She gazed at him, trembling. "What are you saying?" Her voice shook more than her body.

"You know what I'm saying, Ginny." His voice was steady. It wasn't fair…how could he get to be so calm about this? "It's over. We're over. You'll find someone new, and I…I already have. Goodbye." His hand reached out to her, but she stepped back. Her vision began to cloud up and her hand went to her neck, as it as always did when she felt sad or nervous.

She fingered the locket. He had given it to her for their first anniversary. She could tell he was walking away, and she blinked to clear her sight. She could see perfectly now. She tore the locket from her neck and threw it, though seeing it hit the back of his head only made her feel worse.

Now, sitting on the bed, her eyes began to tear up again. She choked back a sob and looked through blurry eyes at the gifts he had given her. They were all too precious, too beautiful to throw to the hard, frozen, ground three floors below. She looked away, and a shadowy image formed in front of her. She could it was her, dancing with him. She swiped at it and it disappeared, silently, like the ghost that it was. The ghost of a good thing.

She moved her gaze back to the window, and thought of something to throw through it. A grim smile crossed her face.  The smashing of the glass was music to her ears.

          As Ginny Weasley fell to the ground, where Death waited with open arms, she thought, I still love you, Draco.

***

So yeah, there it is: another angsty fic by me! I wrote this when I was really mad at my brother and mom, and I grabbed my notebook and started to write.  I wanted to have anger, so I gave it to Ginny.  And then it started to write itself.  The locket part came from the Dashboard Confessional song, "Carry This Picture", and the Ghost of the Good Thing came from them too…guess what CD I was listening to?  Wooh! Go "A Mark, a Mission, a Brand, a Scar." 

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