A/n: Hello ladies (and gentlemen, who knows?)

First of all, thank you thank you thank you for the beautiful reviews ^^ You know I love them. keep it coming, please!

Now, I won't tell too much about this fragment, for I'll leave you to figure it out by yourselves. I think it's more fun that way. ;) I'll only say it's a fragment from Cho's diary, and it's from the future (though not as much into the future as the flash forwards.)

I hope I'm not confusing you guys too much.

My sincerest apologies if I am :s


Cho's Diary

I know I'm supposed to write every day. It's the rule when keeping a diary isn't it?

The truth is, I don't care enough about my life to feel the need to write about it. One might say it's an occupation for the self-centred, don't you think? And who am I talking to anyway. If I don't care to write, I certainly won't care to read. And I can think of none else who would, for I'm not foolish enough to write anything down that will get me killed.


I'm not sure why I wrote that last entry. When did I even write it? I was high most probably. I'm high now too. It doesn't even matter on what. I think it's going to kill me either way. And since I realised that simple fact, I guess it wouldn't be such a bad thing to write things down. I feel an urge at the end of my life to leave something of me behind. I can find no other way than this diary. This notebook had no idea how important it would be when it was bought by my hands.


It seems I'm stuck. I said I would write, but I abandoned the previous entry, because I did not know what else to write. Now that I have discovered a desire to write, I can't possibly find anything to say. I live for nothing but the next hit. It's all I look forward to, all that makes me get up and get to work. I'd sworn to myself it wouldn't happen to me. It's the silliest, but worst mistake of my life.

Should I tell you what my job is? Oh well, I shouldn't be afraid to shock myself.

I was wrong, I do shock myself. I don't want to admit it. It doesn't matter. I know what I do, I don't need to write it.

I hate this diary thing.


I'm sorry. And I don't know who I'm apologizing to. I should just tell you to fuck yourself. And then I think, is that person me? So I'm insulting me? Well, fuck you bitch!

God I'm laughing so much it hurts. Bella brought me something nice. I've never heard of it before but it feels better than snow, and crazier than acid. She said it's gaining popularity, I can't believe I didn't try it before. And it doesn't cost me too much, so I don't have to take on more clients. Them filthy worms.

It's cheap because it's made by the bosses (Imagine me saying this in a sneering tone). It has the same name as the organisation: SH, Sedate Heart. Did I tell you?

Well, I know, I don't need to tell myself, you cunt.

I'm sorry I'm swearing again. I didn't mean it. This stuff makes my hand write without me thinking about it. It'll be the first longer entry thanks to that.

So, Bella calls it 'sshhhh', like when you tell someone to shut it. 'Shhhh' get it?

I'm laughing again. Good gracious I love this Sedate Heart thing. Why didn't the bosses (again, bosses=sneer. Sneer sneer sneer and more) give us some? They should pay us with ssshhhh. And we'd do everything they want. The clients can do whatever, I wouldn't even notice. Them filthy worms. In the rain. In the perpetual bloody rain. The earth worms.

I'm cold.


I am fooling myself. There is really nothing of my own life worth putting down. But maybe it'd be nice to say something about Bella, and Christie. And about that new one. I'd never thought I'd see a boy in our midst. He's certainly worth writing about.

I've only caught glimpses of him however, I don't really know anything, and neither does anyone else.

I wonder what he's here for. He'll probably be gone in a few days. I can't imagine what he's doing here. I've heard rumours, but I never trust such things.

I'll leave it at that for the present.


Christie saw him yesterday. They've fitted up a room on the top floor for him. We're not allowed to go there, nor to talk to him. Flint says the boy moves in different circles, though what that is supposed to mean I can hardly conjecture.

Oh Good Gracious, I've just noticed the language I used in previous entries. It's truly dreadful. I wasn't very lucid, but still, it's an awful read.

If I write again, it will be the same though. Bella is still taking SH, but Christie has persuaded me to keep off it. She heard things, rumours again, but Bella can't be kept away from it.

Christie seems worried, as if she expects Bella to drop dead tomorrow. We know we'll all die in some years, but not now…

I don't want to die just yet. It's silly I know, seeing as how I chose to live my life. I myself don't see any appeal in it. And still, I don't want to let it go.


I have to hit the streets in a few minutes, so I don't have much time, but I absolutely have to write what happened.

It was the middle of the day and I'd only gotten to bed a few hours, so imagine my dismay (with dismay I mean a roaring angry yeti, ask Christie she saw my face) when there was a hellish noise coming from the top floor.

When me and Christie got out of the room, we soon forgot to be angry. I was and still am rather worried, for we heard screaming. It was high-pitched, but broken through. I'm certain it was the boy. He must be at the point where his voice changes to a man's.

He's the only male in this place at that stage in life, so I cannot have been anyone else but him. Unless they keep other boys up there? What for?

Have to go now. Christie's tapping her foot. You know she does it on purpose to annoy me and get me to move faster.


It's been a long time since I picked up this notebook.

These last two weeks have been hell.

Bella, I'm not sure what's happened to her, but she is getting very depressed. More than we all already are. Usually we try to make the best of it, but lately she's been caring about nothing but the sssshhh drug. The SH I wrote about before.

It's as if she's married with it. We're not allowed to say anything about it. She's thrown (literally took her by the collar and thrown) Christie out of her room when she went in to try and convince her once again to stay away from SH. It's sacred for her, and she'll never ever stop.

At those times, Bella seems like a complete stranger to us.

But then at other times, she becomes so dejected that she's not able to work properly anymore. The clients aren't coming to her like before. She doesn't take care of her appearance, and she looks depressed. They don't want that. And then she starts to worry that she won't bring back enough money to keep Flint happy. And if Flint isn't happy, it's because he knows that he'll get in trouble with Avery, and then the Lestrange woman will come to take care of things.

You do not want to have to see Lestrange. Believe me. Bella is scared to death that she'll come. It's but a rumour, but still everyone knows it's a fact, that she's as cruel and dead-hearted as Riddle. Besides, she is crazy.

This is what we've been dealing with for two weeks. First Christie and I are insulted and literally kicked out by Bella, and at other times we try to console her for hours on end, trying to get her up the hill again, so that she can make more money.

I've been thinking to give her some of my share. I've got a little more clients than what I'm expected to have. But I'm afraid Avery will get suspicious. Flint is too slow to discover anything strange in our money affairs, but Avery will stick his nose into it.


Good news! I think Bella is doing better. I wouldn't say 'well', but certainly 'better'. I've given her my extra money, so Flint didn't notice how few her clients have become. And Christie and I have helped her with her preparations in addition of our own before work, and we try and lighten the mood as much as possible, so she'll smile. With all this combined, she's gotten her fair share of money to hand to Flint again. We're all relieved we won't have to see Lestrange.

Now that my biggest problem isn't giving me headaches anymore, I've had some time to return to the mystery of the top floor boy.

There has been no screaming anymore. He's been allowed to come downstairs! I saw him in the kitchen, though he wasn't cooking anything. He was sitting at the window, just staring at the wall of the apartment block opposite. I don't see what he can be seeing that would interest him.

But still, not one knows who he is. None of us talks to him. Because there are men around that we've never seen before, and it feels like they're keeping an eye on him, to make sure he doesn't make contact with us.


I've talked to him! I know his name now.

It's Harry. He told me. And I was right about his voice. He's in the middle of a voice break. I distinctly heard it when he told me his name.

I talked to him, because it appears he's on a hunger strike (he told another girl). He worries me a little, because he's so thin and small and weak. So I tried to convince him to eat something I'd made for myself, but he refused categorically. His green eyes behind his glasses had such an obstinate look, a thousand times worse than Bella when she's defending her favourite drug, that I didn't attempt any further persuasion.

But there's only so long one can keep on a hunger strike. And he didn't tell me why he's doing it. The strange men are still around, and one came into the kitchen at that point. I had to leave Harry behind.


It's Aoiika talking again now ;)

Oh God, I have to study for finals, but I couldn't keep myself from writing this piece. I hope it's worth the effort :)