A/N: Ok guys sorry this took so long to come out … I've had a lot of h/w recently and my Grandpa Passed Away a couple weeks ago.
It's really strange because in my last chapter I ended it with that person who died and him feeling as if he couldn't feel anymore and that his heart had sort of emptied of emotion. And then not long after I posted that chap I get a message saying about my granddad and I now feel that way… I know this must sound stupid but I've always felt in some weird way that I am sort of psychic at times... And I no your all going 'yea right' but it's true…I wont go into it... Just trust me *grins*!
Anyway today I went to his funeral and I feel a bit better now that I have said goodbye...you know? Ok well I decided I should write more story…and seems this one is rather depressing I thought I'd write more of it… hope you like…
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Chapter 4: I cannot love
I cannot love…
Today I came to the conclusion that I cannot love…yes I know I have vaguely mentioned it before, but this is different. I can now stand in front of my best friends and if I really wanted to I could hit them, scream at them, even kill them if I felt the need, as I do not love them…anyone anymore. I don't really know why it had to go this way. I had it all. Well…at least as much as any normal person would want; fame, fortune, hundreds of fans eager to back me up in any circumstance…well most.
But behind the face and the money was a scared little boy trying to hide from the big bad world around him. But everyone was too arrogant to see that and they would keep pushing until the little boy was at breaking point. Until he was holding his hands around his ears and hugging his knees to his chest, tears pouring from his big green eyes. They made that boy feel as if he was nothing in the world but a tool to be used when it was needed, then forgotten for years at a time until another problem arose and needed fixing. And so before you, stands that scared little boy, broken, but not counting on another tool to fix him. You see people do not think about things of such little significance. They do not think that if their tool were to ever break that they would need to fix it. As they believed that tool to be the best and that it could carry on forever. But reality is much different in this case. And the tool has fixed its last problem.
My reasons for feeling this way? The only person left in this world who I felt really, truly cared for me was gone. Gone just like that. It's so strange how one minute someone can be living, breathing and talking to you and then the next they could have been shot down, or have a heart attack. I feel like someone is playing a cruel trick on me and feel that if they stop I might get a slight chance of happiness and cannot bring themselves to do it. My soul has begun to fill up with sorrow. And at any moment I feel it shall crack. I am ready for that day as I cannot go on like this for much longer.
Have you ever had that feeling when everything you do makes you feel guilty that, that one person who you cared so deeply and so lovingly for, cannot do the same? Have you ever felt that if you could just stop breathing altogether that it would ease your guilt slightly, but then feel that tirade of emotion flow back into you again when you think that they did not choose to die and so it is wrong for you to be able to make that choice, to get away from the pain? I have. I do. You see my mind is not a simple thing. There are things stored deep within that even I do not know of, until the most unlikely times. My emotions build up; they collect in the deep, dark crevasses of my mind and then slowly begin to take over my life. One emotion after another shall break free, leaving me confused, depressed and lonely. I cannot stop them from doing so. If I were to try and do something to make me a little less unhappy my mind would overpower it with yet another emotion, never allowing me to feel happiness. It has been like this for a while now. Though the biggest bout came after I read that my first ever friend, Hagrid had been murdered by none other than my Mother and father's betrayer; Peter Pettigrew. Even thinking that name makes a kind of anger boil up inside me like no other. It's his fault I'm like this. It's his fault I'm so fucking screwed up. If he had just let the bastards kill him instead of being such a coward then my Mum and Dad would still be alive, happy. And maybe I would too. Though I am no psychic, I do not know this for sure…
But we can all dream cant we? Ah yes dreams. Have I told you of what I have to suffer through every night? Oh well that's another reason why I should do the deed I know I am going to commit. You see every night I watch innocent young children scream for help, knowing that I cannot provide it for them. I see tears streaming down their innocent faces as they thrash about before the body of my worst enemy, knowing that they are going to die.
Lord Voldemort, a cruel twisted man. I would even go as far to say as twisted as me, though in a different way of course. And the fact that he is mainly the cause for my twisted mind rather adds to the fact that we are very much different from each other. Anyway, he stands there, a foul smirk set upon his ugly face. Just thinking that any living thing, whatever species it belongs too, can just watch in glee as another being is tortured before their eyes fills me with hatred.
Knowing that he has no heart to show love, knowing that it is as black as black can be and that it became that way through his own actions. It makes me angry that he chose to feel that way and I didn't! Why did this have to happen to me? I did not want my heart to go this way. I did not want to become so cold and so distant with people. I did not want to feel as if nothing had any meaning in my life ... including me. There is no point in existing and that is becoming clearer every day. I once dreamt of raising a family. To continue the Potter line, to have a happy home with a smiling wife and 2 children in photographs scattered around a lovely big country cottage home. And do you know what was missing from that photo?
Magic! Magic is the one thing that I feel I despise above all other things, even Voldemort. You see, Voldemort is what he is; he does what he does, simply because magic exists. It is one big scandal really. All it does is cause more pain to people. The only things it is really useful for is making life easier on people, when they should learn to do things on their own. Locking doors and making food quicker. There is no real use for magic. It has corrupted this world and it has blinded us from seeing the real world. The fact that we can do all the things magic does with our own minds and hands. And it brings us greater satisfaction knowing that we can do this. I mentioned this to Ron once and he said that we need magic to protect ourselves from dangerous creatures. What dangerous creatures? If magic did not exist we would not be in danger of being trampled by a hippogriff! Or being drowned by a giant squid! Can no-one see that?
You know, I wish that I had been left in my cupboard for eternity. I wish that I had never received my letter and that I would have rotted away from the reality that was about to hit me. And that brings me back to why I feel this way, why my heart is so cold. It is clearly this; I cannot love…
A/N: Phew…That took a bit of thinking! What do you think? I think I may have gone a bit deeper into this that I first thought. I think I may be able to have one more chapter … and that will be it! Is that ok? Please give me some feedback on this. I only felt I was ready to write again because I had an English essay due in a few days ago and had to write that. It got me in the mood for writing so I'm trying to get back in the swing of things.
I don't know why but I feel as if my writing style has changed a little bit? If you think so like, just slightly, could u tell me plz and if u like it or not … if u do I'll try and rite like it again if you don't ill try to rite like b4 …the same with 'The life of Harry' I feel my writing has changed big time on there and I don't know why? Ah well….
And if any of you are waiting for the next chap for 'The life of Harry' I've only written 1,900 words so far… ill try and get it up 2 3,000 or maybe nearer 4 but I don't know?
Thanks to all my reviewers!!!! Sorry can't find who they were and my internets not working at the mo *Damn AOL* so I can't check on there.
Anyway I better get to bed. I'm very tired *yawns*
And for anyone wanting a poem… here ya go…
*This is a poem in memory of my Grandfather George* (no suicide)
'They're Gone…'
They say 'they're gone', but have they really left us?
Their spirits live on, but our hearts crush.
They do not mean to leave. They do not mean to make us cry.
But the worst thing of all is that they never say goodbye.
They leave us all oblivious to the fact, that they are never coming back.
Our minds are in denial; our smiles are false and sad.
It has put us on trial, to remember the times we had.
Those times are now over, and so we must.
Remember how they were, but never break their trust…
Written by Kellie (me)
And another poem that relates to this chap…if you want to read it…
No longer feel love…
My heart falls to my stomach, and sits there all alone.
It is no longer beating, no longer has a home.
My heart begins to stiffen, and turn blue from the cold.
It starts to feel heavy, it's getting very old.
It was once a sacred blessing, a gift from up above.
It is no longer needed, as I no longer feel love…
Written by Kellie (me)
LuverboyDan*Hesmyman ~*XxX*~