Chapter 8
*Hermione's point of view*
This is going to hurt; it always does. The pain, the memories, the fear; all of it is just a revolving door that never seems to stop. Nothing can end this nightmare. Just when I think I am free, released from my past; it overtakes me. I try so hard to ignore everything like I have done before; but it's too late now.
So here I am running; trying so desperately to escape my past. I had to get away, no matter what the cost. I did not care if I was bleeding, it didn't matter that I could hardly breathe; I had one goal and that was to leave. Run away as fast as possible. Run as if my life depended on it, because it did. I cannot live with this inside of me, this power. I thought I had gained control, but that was a painful lie. I wasn't in control, I was far from that; and the only way to protect the ones I love was to go. I need to disappear and regain control; I must clear my thoughts and refocus because it seemed like my entire world was slowly crumbling all around me. I know that I shouldn't have just fled the way I did; but they wouldn't understand; no one understands. Bloody hell I can't think of this right now, everything is all knotted and twisted so that nothing makes since anymore. I must think of the task at hand; running. Just run as far away as possible and never look back.
At first I did not know where to go. Time seemed distorted as I ran frantically through the thick woods, trying to focus on anything. Anything that would keep my mind somewhat clear. The feel of the cool wind against my face, the sound of my feet crushing the dead leaves on the earth's floor. I couldn't look back; I couldn't let myself dwell the events that just occurred. My thoughts and memories are already haunted enough; I most certainly do not need another rotten memory. Finally I decided to head back to my camp site, it wasn't too far off and hopefully there I can gather myself. Picking up my passé I vaulted over a fallen tree and before I knew it I had entered the safety and shelter of my little camp site. My mind was racing as my body kept shaking uncontrollably; but it was then that I realized there was something warm gently dripping off my hand.
I was completely out of breath as I abruptly slowed down to a walk. But as I headed over to the entrance of my tent I cautiously brought my trembling hand up to reveal a steam of blood pouring out of a fresh cut. Coming now to a stop I could only stand there and stare at the newest cut; one of the many injuries I had received during this entire endeavor. But it was then that I realized that so much has happened, so much. However as I looked at my hand everything began going in and out of focus until I couldn't fight it off anymore. My adrenaline was extinguished as well as all the remaining energy I had left in my battered body. With a deep shaky breathe I finally allowed myself to give in and let the ever growing darkness overtake me. As my body slowly relaxed and the trembling faded away, so did the world around me. I tried to concentrate on the entrance of my tent and even made on last step towards the comfort of my little home when everything became hazy; like a fog engulfing my mind. Then the area around me disappeared into that all too familiar darkness and my last solid memory of this horrid day was the feeling of my body making contact with the cool earth.
As I laid there and the pain gradually wilted away I could not help but realize how wonderful grass could smell. One of my most favorite things in life is the smell of freshly cut grass; sitting on the front steps as father cut the lawn and mother calling me in for a hot cup of tea. If I was to die right now I would die happy because for once my last thought before all the light had evaporated was the smell of cut grass; my most cherished memory.
To Be Continued….