wow. i could have done better but i think its good enough and so this is what you get. and i know the title sucks.
i joke about rape a lot but i wanted to write about how bad it is in the real world. hence this story. so w/e, i dont care if you hate it.
- - - Cleansing - - -
he was leaning in the shadows, blood rushing through his ears. how could she embarass him like that? how could she treat him that way? he wouldnt let this go like before.
she was walking through the night, his angry face floating in her mind. why is he so sensitive? it was only a joke, after all. she swung her purse and walked around the corner of his towering castle.
he heard her coming, her stylish shoes clicking on the gleaming marble of the garden walk.
he didnt know why he did it.
he was so infuriated.
he unfolded himself from his crouched position in the shadows and waited. no one treated him like this and got away with it.
she was humming. he wouldnt let he be that happy.
she was a meter away from where he stood in the shadows.
he waited for her to pass.
jumped out behind her.
grabbed her arms and covered her mouth.
dragged her into a shed.
- - -
she lay there. her purse swinging from the handle of a shovel.
shovel.
pain shot through her as she remembered.
her stylish shoes clicked together as she rolled over. they lay on top of her dress, now in ribbons.
hate shot through her as she remembered.
why did she remember all of this? had anger made him forget to charm her memories away? or did he want her to remember this?
she struggled to her feet, blood dripping off of her skin. she wrapped a picnic blanket around her bruised body and staggered out of the shed.
she remembered allright. all too well. he should have blanked her memory.
- - -
she stood in a white room in the Ministry, contemplating her changed complexion in the mirror hanging on the wall in the waiting room. it sang comfortingly as milky tears like the blood of a star jasmine dripped down her cheeks over the bandages.
the door opened and she went inside.
- - -
she stared at the paper, lying on the couch at her home, and tears dripped onto it.
a picture of him, roaring with rage at a set of aging men while she cowered in the corner of the courtroom, covered the front of the news.
she couldnt belive it.
she had sent him to Azkaban.
some had laughed nervously, they thought he would go in for dark practices or something like that.
but no.
she had sent The Malfoy to Azkaban for rape.
the calm one, the gentleman. always hiding his feelings under his stony glare of ownership.
no one could accuse him of anything. he was too indimidating.
but she couldnt have let that go. his warning had only warned her to never let that happen again.
and tears of guilt dripped on to the page, even though she knew she had done the right thing.
blood dripped onto the page. her bandages were leaking.
and for the last time in her life, her blood mixed with her tears. for the last time in her life, she felt any emotion for the man she had sentenced. and for the last time in her life, she saw his face floating in her mind.
in a moment it was all gone. the tears, the blood, the emotion, the images.
she lay on the couch and took off her bandages. she walked to her bedroom. she found her wand. she picked up her owl and walked outside. leaving her clothes in the doorway.
she stood in the yard and shook her tears off her face.
she raised her wand and shouted a word, then turned and walked away from her flaiming house.
she walked away from her memories, from anything he had ever touched, known of, spoken of, or given her. except for her wand, she had never done magic when he was around. except for her owl, he hadnt known she had had it, he hated owls.
she walked naked into the bushes across the street and listened to the muggle fire sirens blare.
her home only burned faster as they sprayed water onto it, and as she sat there watching her memories crumble into ash and watch her home fall into itself and disentigrate, she whispered madly to her owl.
when it had burned to the ground she turned from her house and dissapeared.
- - -
at her friend's house, she lay shivering in a bed, still talikng to her owl. she didnt notice as her friend levitated her to car that flew to a run down department store. her owl lay on her chest, seeming to be listing to every word she was saying, and understanding the garbled sentences.
the car landed on the roof and her friend walked her to a skylight onto which she tossed her wand and her own. they disapeared momentarily but she didnt seem to care. when her friend held her and stepped through the glass she only continued to babble to her owl. when she was carried to a bed she didnt notice. as soft hands inspected her she only closed her eyes and began to sing to the fluffball that clung to her.
- - -
she opened her eyes. a beak nibbled her ear. she sat up.
she was in a room painted a soft color of blue. an owl - her owl, Fawn - sat on the table next to the soft bed she was lying in.
a woman - Millie, her friend since childhood - entered the room and came and sat on the bed. she was crying.
and then tears ran down her face too. why?
Millie hugged her.
she searched in her memories for an explanation. nothing came flooding back. but bits and pieces of everything began to fit into place. she stopped crying. she got up. and she started all over again.
- - -
she walked through the halls of the hospital, her buisness like robes swirling around her feet. she swung her clipboard in her hand and her stylish shoes slapped the clean floors.
she went to go help another woman, they came in every day now.
she had started a clininc in the hospital for abused women, a clinic where she could ease the pain that she had once felt. her heart felt nothing now except for love, and that made her happy.
she felt love for the rest of her life.
- - -
- - - Cleansing - - -
he was leaning in the shadows, blood rushing through his ears. how could she embarass him like that? how could she treat him that way? he wouldnt let this go like before.
she was walking through the night, his angry face floating in her mind. why is he so sensitive? it was only a joke, after all. she swung her purse and walked around the corner of his towering castle.
he heard her coming, her stylish shoes clicking on the gleaming marble of the garden walk.
he didnt know why he did it.
he was so infuriated.
he unfolded himself from his crouched position in the shadows and waited. no one treated him like this and got away with it.
she was humming. he wouldnt let he be that happy.
she was a meter away from where he stood in the shadows.
he waited for her to pass.
jumped out behind her.
grabbed her arms and covered her mouth.
dragged her into a shed.
- - -
she lay there. her purse swinging from the handle of a shovel.
shovel.
pain shot through her as she remembered.
her stylish shoes clicked together as she rolled over. they lay on top of her dress, now in ribbons.
hate shot through her as she remembered.
why did she remember all of this? had anger made him forget to charm her memories away? or did he want her to remember this?
she struggled to her feet, blood dripping off of her skin. she wrapped a picnic blanket around her bruised body and staggered out of the shed.
she remembered allright. all too well. he should have blanked her memory.
- - -
she stood in a white room in the Ministry, contemplating her changed complexion in the mirror hanging on the wall in the waiting room. it sang comfortingly as milky tears like the blood of a star jasmine dripped down her cheeks over the bandages.
the door opened and she went inside.
- - -
she stared at the paper, lying on the couch at her home, and tears dripped onto it.
a picture of him, roaring with rage at a set of aging men while she cowered in the corner of the courtroom, covered the front of the news.
she couldnt belive it.
she had sent him to Azkaban.
some had laughed nervously, they thought he would go in for dark practices or something like that.
but no.
she had sent The Malfoy to Azkaban for rape.
the calm one, the gentleman. always hiding his feelings under his stony glare of ownership.
no one could accuse him of anything. he was too indimidating.
but she couldnt have let that go. his warning had only warned her to never let that happen again.
and tears of guilt dripped on to the page, even though she knew she had done the right thing.
blood dripped onto the page. her bandages were leaking.
and for the last time in her life, her blood mixed with her tears. for the last time in her life, she felt any emotion for the man she had sentenced. and for the last time in her life, she saw his face floating in her mind.
in a moment it was all gone. the tears, the blood, the emotion, the images.
she lay on the couch and took off her bandages. she walked to her bedroom. she found her wand. she picked up her owl and walked outside. leaving her clothes in the doorway.
she stood in the yard and shook her tears off her face.
she raised her wand and shouted a word, then turned and walked away from her flaiming house.
she walked away from her memories, from anything he had ever touched, known of, spoken of, or given her. except for her wand, she had never done magic when he was around. except for her owl, he hadnt known she had had it, he hated owls.
she walked naked into the bushes across the street and listened to the muggle fire sirens blare.
her home only burned faster as they sprayed water onto it, and as she sat there watching her memories crumble into ash and watch her home fall into itself and disentigrate, she whispered madly to her owl.
when it had burned to the ground she turned from her house and dissapeared.
- - -
at her friend's house, she lay shivering in a bed, still talikng to her owl. she didnt notice as her friend levitated her to car that flew to a run down department store. her owl lay on her chest, seeming to be listing to every word she was saying, and understanding the garbled sentences.
the car landed on the roof and her friend walked her to a skylight onto which she tossed her wand and her own. they disapeared momentarily but she didnt seem to care. when her friend held her and stepped through the glass she only continued to babble to her owl. when she was carried to a bed she didnt notice. as soft hands inspected her she only closed her eyes and began to sing to the fluffball that clung to her.
- - -
she opened her eyes. a beak nibbled her ear. she sat up.
she was in a room painted a soft color of blue. an owl - her owl, Fawn - sat on the table next to the soft bed she was lying in.
a woman - Millie, her friend since childhood - entered the room and came and sat on the bed. she was crying.
and then tears ran down her face too. why?
Millie hugged her.
she searched in her memories for an explanation. nothing came flooding back. but bits and pieces of everything began to fit into place. she stopped crying. she got up. and she started all over again.
- - -
she walked through the halls of the hospital, her buisness like robes swirling around her feet. she swung her clipboard in her hand and her stylish shoes slapped the clean floors.
she went to go help another woman, they came in every day now.
she had started a clininc in the hospital for abused women, a clinic where she could ease the pain that she had once felt. her heart felt nothing now except for love, and that made her happy.
she felt love for the rest of her life.
- - -