Short little oneshot... please read and review... just kinda reflects my mood when I wrote it. Oh and sorry I wrote this when I really should've written the next chapter of To Be A House Elf... Please read and review!
-Oli
I Remember
A dark storm howls mournfully behind thick glass-paned windows, rain rushing down the drowned braches of the tall pines in the distance. Anxious tittering voices call me from sleep. Eyelids seem heavy as rocks. I squint at the people gathered round me.
A tall woman with hair pulled tightly into a bun stands beside a misshapen-looking man with a strange blue eye that rolls endlessly around in its socket. To my left are two boys. One has painfully bright orange hair. The other's hair is a messy midnight black and he has a jagged gash across his forehead. Both are spattered in crimson blood.
Why are these people here?
I do not remember.
Pain shoots down my spine as if a long silver dagger has sliced flesh. Brief and unhelpful memories clutter my thoughts.
Charging, surrounded by ones dear to me. Brilliant beams of light whizzing past and just grazing my body. Shouting spells and curses. Equally brilliant light is emitted from my wand. Tripping. Falling. Glimpsing the silvery white orb above, laughing at my fate. Pain. The reoccurring monthly agonizing pain. Rising. Howling fearlessly, towards black-clad ranks. Bloody jaws snapping viciously. Uncontrollable lust for the spilling of blood. The taste of salty hot copper burns my tongue. My hated form. Green light engulfs me.
I remember no more.
They say I was hit with Avada Kedavra, the killing curse, but it is meant for humans. I am not a human, yet still I feel the life draining swiftly from my limbs.
The door bursts open. A distraught witch with faded pink hair rushed to my bedside. "Let them be," The tall woman with the bun instructs. They file out reluctantly, leaving me with the pale, pink-haired witch. The door closes.
"Do you remember me?" She asks. Her warms hands touch my cold ones, eyes brimming with hope.
I feel a sharp jolt rising within my heart. I study her face, aged too soon from sleepless nights and the constant stresses of war. But I cannot remember.
"No," I answer truthfully.
Her eyes fill with tears and my heart is clawed mercilessly to tiny bloody pieces. A painful twinge tugs at me. It is time to go… to leave this world. I will unite with my fellow marauders. All fallen. Only I remain. It is time.
But no. I must remember. Must remember the life I am losing, must remember the witch before me, must remember before I die. The pinkness is fading from the witch's hair. Pinkness I somehow know, used to be brighter. She weeps uncontrollably now. Hot tears spatter onto my crisp white linen. I grasp the last thread of life that remains in my frozen body. And I try to remember.
"Even if you never remember me," the witch chokes though her tears, "I'll always love you."
Love… I cling desperately onto these promising words. Did I once love? I must remember.
A fiery burst of crimson passion erupts from my shrouded soul. A flood of burning rivulets stream from my heart.
Yes… I remember.
"Tonks," I whisper hoarsely.
Her weeping stops abruptly.
"I remember… and I love you."
I collapse, exhausted from this speech, onto my starched white pillow. Darkness carries my soul away… floating. But it is a safe darkness, a good darkness.
And I am content.
I do not hear the pink haired witch whisper, "I'll follow you forever Remus," nor do I notice the sterilized surgical knife she has stolen, glinting wickedly under the waning candlelight.
All I see is darkness. Peaceful, quiet darkness…
And I Remember.
