Title: Born Into Melpomene
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or any of its elements. I'm merely playing with them.
Rating: PG-13 for a bit of language.
Summary: This little tale is still being written and still being developed. It tells a story of a young girl who basically befalls more tragedies after another. One day she meets a boy and her life changes for a while. It doesn't last, thankfully. It really should be a show on the WB.
Author's Note: The purpose of this chapter is to set the mood. Hopefully it does its job. Starting as something totally different, I had published this story on Fanfiction before. It received close to no comment and so I deleted it and left it buried in my computer, showing it only to those select few who wanted to read what I wrote. I reopened it a few months later and read it again. I decided that my writing style had matured much more since my first publishing of this story and I ended up changing everything. I rewrote this tale and am showing it to you now.
This is my second story counting my first publication. So be constructive eh?
Sir Asphyxia Miseria
Born Into Melpomene
Prologue: Diary by Candlelight
I didn't know it could happen, I couldn't believe. I knew in my heart, my soul, that something, some tragedy would happen in this desolate night; but I refused to believe and refused to act. It waited for me like the cobra sneaking along the hot sands of the Sahara for its prey, and when it struck, it strikes with such ferocity that none can survive from its bite.
And I killed him.
Because of me, it all came crashing down in a single second, one single act that proved to be more than my love, my feelings for him. I was too slow and I was too stupid. Too idiotic and naïve to believe a soul of another, whom he warned me against, would change for me and nobody else.
I was selfish.
It tears at my soul knowing what I did and having to live with it every second the air touches my lips, wishing it to be from him, from Cassius. Confusion takes control of my mind and causes it to direct my very flesh, which I hate with a fucking passion.
And I hate myself.
Yet I'm confused and do not know where to start. I hope to straighten this out and love myself again... and to find him because I know he must be out there. He has to be out there. Waiting for somebody. Waiting for me. I will start by introducing you to myself and my golden days in between before the tragedy. The tragedy of me. This is
The Tragedy of Jennie Stillheart