Chapter One:

I stood on the patio, my feet warm inside my fluffy slippers and my hands dug deep into the pockets of my dressing gown, clutching my book. I stared up at the sky, watching as the stars drifted in and out of view. The tears that had been threatening to spill all day slowly trickled down my cheeks, the salty liquid tasting bitter on my lips. The stars grew blurry, and I could no longer stand still as my breathing became harsh. I collapsed onto the cold stone, clasping my knees to my chest, hugging myself tightly. It was only me now. The faint streaks of dappled moonlight spilling through the clouds were almost romantic. Shame I was alone. The reality of my life was hitting me hard; there was no one to laugh with me, no one to hold me when I cried.

In my mind I replayed over and over the last day of term; the tears, the laughter, the hugs. For seven years I had known, and for seven years I had told no one. And now it was too late. He had always been there for me, the one person to lift me up when I was down, mostly. And I had never told Him how I felt, never let my emotions out. Now all the trapped feelings that had been locked inside my soul for years were leaving in tears of bitterness. All those months and years of silent torture for nothing.

Every day I would search His face, His eyes for that one special look, one clue to know my feelings were returned. Every day my hopes were shattered.

Looking back, I should have known. He only had eyes for others. I remembered every charms lesson He would rush to sit next to her, leaving me to stand, alone. Faith and James would spend their evenings curled up on the sofa in front of the fire; Bella and Remus would go for romantic walks by the lake. I would sit alone in my dormitory, waiting for Him to return from his latest date. There was never a thought for me. Night after night I would sit, my ear pressed against the door, entranced by the sound of His voice. I guess that was what being obsessed was like. He never once mentioned me. Every evening He would come back, joke around with Faith and James, and leave. I would trace His distinctive walk treading up the stairs. For being my best friend He wasn't very good at saying goodnight. Those were the bad times. The evenings. During the day He was the sweet and amusing best friend anyone could ever want. And I never wanted to let him go.

He was out of my grasp forever now. We used to promise each other that wherever we went, whatever we did in life, we would never forget. Instinctively my hand went to my neck, and I traced the delicate silver of my locket. I was the only one who ever new of the picture it contained. I still am. He gave it to me; on my fifteenth birthday, along with a kiss. Who would have thought a girl, a Gryffindor Marauder, could have gone through all her school years never being kissed? I used to pretend I was saving myself up for when He noticed me. It just so happened that day never came.

So many nights my dreams are plagued with tormenting scenarios; me confessing my undying love for Him, and having my efforts shoved back in my face. Countless times I wake up sweating and shaking, only to bury my face in my pillow and cry myself to sleep. It's raining now, as though the heavens are mimicking my actions, the wet rain drops falling hard on my eyelids as I turn my face up to the skies. If only the water could cleanse me of my feelings, wash them away, drown them in a pool of emotions. I only want to learn to live again, only want to learn how to forget. How can you get over a shattered heart, when the person who broke you never even knew? But I don't want to forget; I don't want to let the pain die inside me, so I cry my thoughts into a book. The cover is damp, the pages crinkled as I clasp it tightly in my pocket.

I often wonder if guardian angels exist, and if they do, what happened to mine? Maybe it drowned in my tears, got lost in my scattered thoughts, tangles of emotion. A sigh racks my body and I lift a hand to push the strands of wet hair out of my eyes. I wasn't crying. I didn't cry, things didn't affect me like that. I was strong, and in self-denial. My forehead sank to my knees and I felt the tears sting my eyes again. A wave of tiredness washed over me and I gave into it with relief, glad to find some escape from the thoughts threatening to suffocate my brain. I gave no heed to the fact I was falling asleep on a cold slab of stone in the rain. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I was alone with my tears. Always alone.