It’s far after midnight & I can’t sleep. Again.
The rain’s pouring softly against the window as mother moon kisses my skin. Cold. Harsh.
I feel the light, play with my left hand’s fingers in the air, move them smoothly - like in some wicked yet naive fairy dance. Pale skin, blue veins, some smaller scars. This moment; I try to capture it by closing my eyes & trying to memorise every detail:
The light in which here & there a dust particle follows its way through space, the blank mosaic that mirrors as shadows on my blanket. It’s so … peaceful. War is over. Voldemort lost for once & for ever.
I open my eyes. I see. I see it but I don’t want to. Pictures flashing in my mind. Dumbledore falling. Hogwarts burning. Harry in Hagrid’s arms.
I hate these memories. I did things I never should’ve done. This mark will be there. All the time. Reminding me of my failures. The war might be over, but it’s still inside me, in my head - fighting endless & pointless.
Wounds will heal anyway. The emptiness won’t get filled. I wish to erase my past, rewrite. It could’ve been different. It could’ve been with the right people. I … can’t understand why I did this; impressing my father, my mother? For whom & for what? My actions hurt. Not only me but others as well. Pressure forms coal into diamonds. I once have heard that from Hermione. Am I a diamond now? Hah! No. But who am I to blame rather then myself.
What do I want? I don’t know. Or I know but I’m just too cowardly to ask, too scared to just doing it. I shouldn’t let my past swallow me & spit me out again. Easier said than done - for sure. I want to be me but who is me anyway …
Harry knows who he is, even that Weasley boy. But I?
I so hate myself & I can’t show it to anyone. It’s always referring to ending up in that “stone cold grey-eyed ghostly-pale son of a deatheater”.
I have to be untouchable & unreachable. Always have to be distant, head held high. Why was I so easy to get influenced by wrong beliefs that shapes me into this … Monster. I am a monster. A true snake.
How often have I tried to wash, to scratch & to hex it away? Million times. I could cut it out, maybe that’ll help but .. I wouldn’t do it anyway.
I want to apologise. Apologise to Harry, Ron, Hermione, apologise to everyone I did wrong.
I feel misplaced, unable to cry, unable to breathe.
Unable to walk to him & tell him how I feel about him, ask him how I could do things better, what I could do so he accepts my apology.
He wouldn’t - I can’t even forgive myself. So how will he? How will anyone?
I love him.
Big thank you to @queenofthyme for encouraging me to post my first text-thingy-story-whatever 💜🌸