AN: I am so, so, so very sorry for how long it took me to update. I really don't know what came over me, but whatever it was... I'm so sorry. Heres the VERY long awaited next chapter. Thank you to EVERYONE that reviewed. All of the encouragement was very much appriciated, and if I would not have kept recieving reviews, it is possible that I would have forgotten about this story. Once again, thank you to all of you that reviewd! I will try to pick the pace up.
After Tom had left, I decided that trying to run away still would be a bad idea. He probably had someone watching me and if I tried to run, I would suffer a fate worse than death. He would make sure of that.
What could I possibly do? Tears began to stream down my face. My legs began to shake, and finally, they gave out. All I could do was crawl into a ball and hope that no one would find me crying. Why is it that I can be a brave, outgoing person, but the minute the person that was once in my dreams and now in my nightmares comes back, I can't seem to function?
Why did I have to be so stupid? A sob escaped from the back of my throat, my cheeks began to feel irritated from the salt, and my throat felt as if it was thinner than a straw. Why did I have to pour my soul to someone that I had never even met? Why couldn't I have had normal friends? Why?
Finally, after what seemed like ages, I managed to stand up. I was a little shaky at first, but I managed. I walked into the school. I walked into the school and ran, blind. I had ran all the way to the bathroom. The one bathroom that happened to be the entrance to the Chamber. The entrance to where all of the pain had began.
Once I realized where I was, I knew what I needed to do. I needed to feel in control of something. If I couldn't be in control of my own life, my own thoughts, I could be in control of nothing. I fumbled around, searching for the knife that I had hidden in there my second year. I knew that it was in the room. I just knew it had to be. There was no way that someone had found it and moved it.
It was right where I had left it. Tucked behind one of the bricks in the wall. Without even moving, I pressed the blade into the wrist that Tom had practically just crushed. A line of crimson red pooled around the blade. It began to flow slowly, branching off into little streams, then finally falling from my arm and onto the floor. It stung, but it felt right. There was finally something that I was in control of.
I picked the blade up, moved it a little up my arm, then repeated the process. By the time my head seemed clear, by the time that I couldn't feel any pain, but that which I was causing, I had four perfectly straight lines of red on my arm.
The hand that had the blade in it had began to tremble. I dropped the knife. My knees gave out again, and I found myself once again on the ground.
"Ooh… Is the littlest little red head back again? Are you finally going to do it? Kill yourself? Join me?" The voice belonged to Moaning Myrtle.
"Myrtle, leave me alone."
"But why? You're the one in my bathroom. Or—or—or you just here to torment me. Just like everyone else."
"No one comes here to torment you, Myrtle."
"You do, and the other boy, the same boy as before. You both come and open the sinks. He came down here with you yesterday. Neither of you said hello. It's as if to you, I don't ex—ex—exist!" And on that note, Myrtle dived into one of the toilets, leaving me in peace.
I begin to feel cold again. I feel as if I'm missing a part of my soul, and I know that it is well a possibility. Tom probably took a part of it when he made me open the Chamber.
The bell rang again. I didn't bother to move. I didn't bother to think that someone may come into this bathroom. I don't know why anyone would though. Not with Myrtle usually hanging around.
The door opened. There was a voice. It sounded like Pansy. I stumbled to hide the knife as she came in, but she noticed the blood on my arms, and she screamed.
Within minutes, there was a group forming in the bathroom, some of them guys even. Then, shortly after the crowd had gotten to be almost more than I could take, the person I least wanted to see entered. He took one look at me and his face screamed outrage. There looked like there was something else, but I couldn't recognize it.
"What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing!" He screamed at me.
I closed my eyes and did the best I could to look away. I knew all of this was going to spread like wild fire. It was embarrassing to be caught cutting.
When I closed my eyes and turned my head, I heard footsteps stamping towards me. Then, I was suddenly being yanked up by my hair, and my arm was grabbed just above the elbow. The minute that I was standing up, with my head down, the hand that had my hair let go. Suddenly, I was smacked.
"I asked you a question! You should well know that I expect an answer! Don't you dare try to look away from me and act all innocent."
"I—I wasn't…"
"Wasn't what? Running away and doing anything in your power to defy me?"
"THERE'S NOTING IN THE RULES THAT SAY I CAN'T CUT MYSELF!"
"Do not. Yell. At me." I was smacked again, this time a bit harder than before. "You're using a weapon on school property and harming a student. Both of those are against the rules. Can Little Ginny not handle herself? Does she think her life is bad enough that she needs to escape it?"
"No…" my voice barely came out as a whisper.
"Then tell me, why," he held up the knife that I had just used to cut myself, "you find the need to use this. Tell me."
"I—I—You wouldn't underst—"
He slapped me again. "Do not. Talk back to me. Ever." He turned around to the group of spectators. "All of you! Go to class!"
They didn't need told twice and quickly scampered away.
I tried to sink away from him, but he pulled me back. He pointed his wand at my wrist and suddenly the cuts were nothing more than pale scars. The glamour spell that I had used to cover the old scars faded away, showing dozens of thin pale scars.
Tears were steaming freely down my face again.
"Never again."
"What?"
He slapped me. "Never again will you do this."
I remained silent.
He gripped my arm tighter. "Do you understand?" His voice was harsh.
I tried looking away. He grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him. "Do. You. Understand?"
I couldn't bring myself to answer.
His grip on my arm tightened again, causing me to gasp in pain. "Ginevra. I asked you a question. Answer me."
"I—I have to do this." I know he knew I was referring to the cutting.
"No. You don't."
"Yes," a sob escaped from my throat, "I do."
He slapped me again. "You will listen to me. What I tell you, you do. I tell you to stop this—habit—you stop it."
"I—"
"I am through arguing with you on this. You won't do it."
I was full out crying now. My legs couldn't support me. I was falling, but it was gently. When I had finally ended up on the floor, I was curled up into a ball, being held. Someone was running their hand through my hair, making shhing noises. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and I blacked out.