title: Damn, The World is Broken
character: Dominique
author: Jill (Pole's Jar of Split Worms)
for: Listen (fabricated fantasies)
Damn, The World is Broken
Knock, knock.
Who's there?
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"Miss Weasley!"
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"Avada Kedavra!"
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A whimper is heard. Something is thrown at the door.
"Go away!"
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What has happened?
All this over…
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"Miss—Dominique, I understand that you're upset, but you're really overreacting—"
"No, you don't. You don't understand. Just go away."
"Please," she adds as an afterthought. "Go away."
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Her eyes look like glass.
She falls to the ground.
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"Dominique, I demand you open this door right—!"
Dominique scrambles, tripping over herself; snatches up her wand from her desk and screams "Reducto!" at the door. It explodes.
"There! HAPPY?"
You evil bitch. Happy now? Was it really necessary that you see my face right now?
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It's not polite to force your presence upon someone who is already in pain. Such is selfishness, incidentally.
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"No one lives against—"
"Don't. My uncle is Harry Freakin' Potter, and you…you've got the audacity to tell me no one survives the Killing Curse?"
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"VICTOIRE!"
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Most don't know. How they never leave you.
The people you watched die.
She still has nightmares.
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"Forgive her, ma'am. She's mentally ill. We have to get her back to St. Mungo's."
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She's not ill.
They didn't watch their sister be murdered. They wouldn't understand.
A Hufflepuff with issues? Must be mental.
Why wasn't she a Slytherin, she wonders. Hufflepuffs are too cheery for her.
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Tears stream down her face. If this is what she has to do for anyone to listen…
To understand the cruelty…
So be it.
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"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The wand is not pointed at the intruders. It is pointed at herself.
Dominique has had enough. There's only so much you can ask a person to cope with.
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"I am a Weasley. Not God's incarnate, thanks. Sorry it bothers me to watch my sister killed!"
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The "sorry" part was a lie.
a/n: please don't favorite/alert without reviewing, thanks.