When my cheek is turned towards the ground, your hand still graces down to my chin to lift my eyes up to yours. When my ears are shut to all sound, your melodious voice breaks through the barrier. When my heart is crest fallen, and broken to pieces, you're there gently molding the pieces back into one with your elegant hands. Even though I do not fully deserve your presence at all times, you still follow me and pick me up when I am down. All I can give you in return is my thanks, and my prayers.
Remus sat alone on an abandoned platform, namely nine and three-quarters. The silence rang deafeningly in his ears as nothing stirred the air, not even a lone gust of fading summer air. Having been cast into the train station without a second glance, he had nothing to do but to wait the extra two hours that stood between him and depature for home. Praying silently, Remus had all but forgotten to keep his little inkling of faith alive over the summer. No matter how many times he was beaten to the lowest tier of self-worth and self-esteem. Althought conciously he knew his prayers may one day be answered, he was still waiting for some action to be taken.
Another hour passed in silence before another soul graced the platform, but this was just the trolly runner. Feeling cold down deep into his bones, Remus hugged his long sleeved shirt to his wrists, and then his arms to his chest. Humid was the air, and high was the temperature... but nothing could ever warm up a frozen soul; chilled by discontent and contemptment. Time was just not on his side, with each passing day he grew more feeble and weakened, from blood loss andor non self-inflicted injuries.
"Remus..." Came the echoing boom of his fathers voice, it was a rare thing that either his brother or father called him by his birth given name anymore. Slowly, but surely his trembling hands laid the flat blade down into the lowest recess of the bathroom cabinet, as to not let his painful, yet ironically not, escape be left floundering out in the open. His uncovered feet dragged slowly, grudgingly over the smooth hard wood floors of the hallway, and onto the living room carpet. Feeling no sense of shame, he felt the blood of his wrists slowly start to seep through the thin fabric of his clothes.
"Come here and clean up this mess..." Roy indicated snidely to a shattered glass and spilt whiskey. The smell intoxicated Remus' nostirls, his over sensitive senses blaring with discomfort at the harsh smell. As if a new wind took over his body, Remus rushed to the mess before it set into the carpet, afterall if he didn't catch the mess in time, he'd be liable for another broken bone if he was lucky.
Bending down, he quickly gathered the shards of broken glass into his left palm. Right hand scanned the dampened floor for large shards when he was suddenly kicked in the side, and thrown forwards onto the glass. A multitude of shock and pain wracked his mind as several pieces of the glass entered his palm.
Apparently He had fallen asleep on his little bench and fell over when he was reliving a few days prior. The scabs were etched deep into his palm, by pure coincidence, if one looked that is, the shape of the scabs resembled a cresent moon. Now laying on his stomach on the floor of the platform, Remus steadily rose to his feet, and brushed off the gime from his clothing. A slow sigh escaped his lips as students and their families started to pass through the barrier into his own realm of loneliness.
The summer was not all that harsh to him, at least development wise. Now a staggering four inches taller, it was a shock to himself when he fit into Romulus' old clothes which always were too large for him, at least the length. Unable to trim his hair, the soft tufts now fell about his shoulders, and past his chin. A thin stip of ribbon holding back what it could, the rest fell unevenly into his eyes; which had seemed to grow in leaps and bounds in their depth and expression. Most of the time they showed a deep understanding of all things dark, and others, a pitiable glance of depression.
A thin pink line stretched across the apple of his right cheek, down to the left corner of his chin; a bit more square and defined if your eyes beheld it in the right light. Jagged and torn it seemed to have been painful at one time to acquire such a mark, but asthe memory seemed to fade, the scar lasted ten fold. It was such a difference in height and hair that his comrades had swept their eyes over the growing crowd of students, totally skipping over the reformed, in many ways, boy.
