Disclaimer - I do not own Harry Potter…it all belongs to Miss JK Rowling. The lucky duck. I also don't own Evanescence…well I own their CDs but yeah. So…Amy Lee, Ben Moody, and JK Rowling…if you're out there, don't sue me. *winces* Moving on, no one is forcing you to read this piece of crap so just turn away already and go back into your world where there isn't padded walls and straitjackets.
Her Crimson Regret
I tried to kill the pain
But only brought more
So much more
She flicked the lighter and watched as the fire soaked into the cigarette. She breathed the toxic air in and ended up coughing her lungs out. Yuck. The smell made her shudder and the taste was like her father's cooking. Except…better. She wasn't supposed to breathe it in. She was supposed to circulate the smoke. It was her first time of course, and anyone would make that mistake. It was bliss. She closed her eyes dreamily. She now realized why smoking was so addicting. She should have started a long time ago. It felt fucking good. Just two seconds of forgetting everything and just flowing with the cigarette. She needed more. Just a smoke from a cigarette left behind by Draco Malfoy in his jacket wasn't enough.
I lay dying, and I'm pouring
Crimson regret
And betrayal
She smiled at how fast things can change. Fuck, she was the proof that a lot of times change was not good at all. She lifted up the collar of Draco's leather jacket and squeezed herself in it. It was getting too cold. Virginia slid over to the open window and looked down. It was a long way. She did a little test drive and dropped the egg she was supposed to eat. It turned into mashed egg with a side of dirt. It would be a real shame if someone was the egg. It would be a real shame if she was the egg…would it? She was always scared of death ever since her second year. Now, it wasn't such a big deal anymore. It was just frigging death.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming
Virginia was already killing herself with each smoke she took of the cigarette. She hugged Draco's leather jacket again. She hadn't seen him since the last time he cut himself. Virginia was not supposed to ever see him again, for her family forbade her to. He set a 'bad' example. Virginia thought he set the best example ever. He was feeling pain, like her, and decided to stop it. And Virginia loved him for that.
Since she was forbidden from ever seeing the Malfoy family again, she would probably never get a chance to tell him that.
I love you, Virginia mouthed.
Am I too lost to be saved
Am I too lost?
Virginia wished that Draco would appear in the jacket and hug her and make love to her like he did before his mother found out he was cutting. She could almost feel Draco with his jacket…she only wished that he was the real thing. She shut the window down, no one could hear because they were all out at a Quidditch game. Virginia hasn't gotten the heart to go out yet. Draco's essence seemed to wrap his arms around Ginny comfortably.
Virginia couldn't take it anymore. Her slender hand poked into a pocket in the leather jacket and pulled out a small blade with some of Draco's blood still on it…just dried. Virginia wondered what it felt like. She took in more smoke from the cigarette and had that amazing sensation again. Cutting probably felt a hundred times better.
Virginia took the sharp blade to her skin and gulped.
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
It didn't seem so horrible. How can cutting yourself be such a crime? To Virginia, every kid in the world should have a blade such as this when they're feeling alone, lost, and in melancholy. Virginia didn't know how wrong she was. She held her breath, and slashed a cut across her wrist. No pain came, at least at first. It didn't seem so bad, not at all. It was just a light pink slit. There wasn't even any blood. Suddenly, the pain and blood came. Virginia screamed out loud. Too deep, she had cut too deep. The crimson blood started streaming down her arm. The pain made Virginia forget everything just for a minute. She had to do something. Anything.
She ran to the bathroom and put her streaming hand under the icy water. It stung like hell. Her deep chocolate brown eyes watched as the water slowly became a dark pink. Then it turned to a light crimson. Then red. Her head was feeling lightheaded. The water didn't do any help, just made her arm clean - for the moment. The pink slit became a dark red. It reminded Virginia of her hair. The suicide mark was so straight, so perfect, unlike her. The slit slowly became bigger, and turned back into a darker pink. The room began to spin. Or maybe it was her that was spinning. Either way it probably wasn't a good sign at all.
"Shit."
Do you remember me?
Lost for so long.
Will you be on the other side or will you forget me?
As she curled up in a little corner, hoping to clot up the plot with her black skirt, she wondered. Will she be forgotten if she did die? Would Draco remember her? She held on tight to his jacket as she thought of this. Will her parents be angry with her? Will Molly be crying? Yes, definitely. Her brothers would probably sulk after her, if she's lucky. Will she be missed? Will she go to hell for committing suicide? So many questions. Only one way to find out. To wait. She had nowhere to call for help. There was that fellytone in her father's room, which was used to contact Muggles in case of emergencies.
Wherever she was going…heaven…hell…another dimension…she wondered if her loved ones would go where she was going. Will she wait for them or move on if that's even possible? And would they forget her? Virginia didn't have time to ask any more questions to herself as her mind got woozy again.
I'm dying, praying, bleeding, and screaming
Am I too lost to be saved?
Am I too lost?
She might as well finish the job. She reached out the took the blade in hand again, still most from her own blood. Then she slashed it across her wrist in a smooth and fast motion. The pink line was also perfect. Beautiful in a way. Again she forgotten everything and listened to the pain for around a minute before she realized what was going on again. The cigarette dropped from her mouth. Isn't it surprising how much you can endure and throughout it all you can still poison yourself even further with a cigarette? Which will probably be your last one.
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
My God my tourniquet
Return to me salvation
Virginia decided to write a short note. To show that she didn't mean to do it. She had to make it short. She took out a quill and started writing on the wall, making a simple note that anyone could understand. Amazingly, Virginia could still maintain her excellent writing skills. Well, of course not as excellent as Hermione's. Virginia loathed Hermione, Ron paid more attention to her then to her own sister. And whenever there was giggling and making-out and who knows what, Virginia was always sent out of the room like a dog or something.
My wounds cry for the grave
Virginia was afraid to die. She leaned backwards on the note she wrote on the wall as the entire world faded to black carefully. She wanted it to be over. The pain. The judgment. The roses of black love. The Romeo and Juliet tale. Everything. She had never experienced a moment in her entire life where she was painless. She wanted death to cover her in a sleepless slumber so badly. Pain was taking over her.
She crawled on all fours into the marble bathtub, waiting for it to all go away. The drip of the ice cold water gave her shivers as it intensified the slits in her wrists even more. The slowly rising water was crimson, surrounding Virginia as she swept her head back into the hard marble edge. More pain.
My soul cries for deliverance
Will I be, denied, Christ?
A white striking pain shot throughout her body. Her limp body fell to the ground, her eyes still wide open. The chocolate in her brown eyes faded away to a metallic gray and brown color. She didn't look like Ginny Weasely anymore. All these years she had this cover to hide herself. It was too bad she didn't realize she was 'Virginia' Weasely before it was too late. Too late.
Tourniquet
My suicide
As her wrists burned with pain with the slits cut too deep, her eyes widened even more as Virginia Weasely's world faded to black.
*
Molly sobbed as tears of regret rolled down her cheeks. This probably would have never happen if she had never forbidden Ginny to see Draco again. So many regrets. The Ministry of Magic came over and all they saw were Draco's jacket, a blade with dried blood, a bathtub full of bloody water and a plain note on the wall. Draco commited suicide that day. When he heard the news of Virginia.
They would probably meet on the other side, holding hands and laughing right about now. Or probably they were in hell, separated from each other even more where as when they were still alive. What the note on the wall said, it was soon washed away. But it three plain words. It wasn't I love you as you might think.
The note on the wall said 'I didn't know.'