ONE LAST CHANCE | Draco Malfoy

chapter 49

The time has stopped. I dont think I remember the last time the time has caught itself in such slow timelapse.

No, I think I do. But it was different back then.

It never passed this way before.

The only time the world seemed still was when I was little. Around seven perhaps.

The last time I lost track of passing time was when I was running through bushes, raspberry bushes I remember, covered in leaves and a slight bit of mud. An always growing laughter pushing its way out of my throat.

The tiny path I was running along appeared to me to be endless.

Slight sunbeams were shining through the deep green leaves of the forest I was running through, blinding my vision along the way.

On the right, a little house. My house. My parents house. Our home. I remember them winking to me while I was running. Big smiles on both their faces.

The warm wind hit against my cheeks, refreshing my sweaty skin from running. It was calming. There were no noises, nothing to distract me from my path. The stony road made it difficult for me to keep track of it nevertheless. And I ran and ran, without the track of time or control of my body. It felt free. I felt free.

Until I tripped. And fell.

I fell and scratched my knee open. All of a sudden, blood was all over my leg, dripping down like the bitter tears of mine at such pain. It hurt so bad, I never thought anything could hurt more than that back then. It was the worst pain I experienced that time. My very first, too. Or at least the first I can remember.

If I think of it now, I can only say how foolish I was, thinking the worst pain was scratching up a knee until it bleeds. What are some scratches and a bit of blood in front of an all bleeding heart when it breaks so much you loose control of your senses. Of yourself.

You just know you lost it all.

And it bleeds, and bleeds. An entire river full. A waterfall of dark red blood which doesn't seem to stop. Doesn't seem to want to cease from sprinting like it is running out of time or out or breath; out of life.

Just like the tears that follow along the unending waterfall, steaming down their hot ways and carving their saltiness into your skin until they bite through your bones. Crack them open. Break them. Twirl them around. Shatter them entirely.

Crash their bitterness through you until you are broken into thousand little pieces you can not collect anymore.

You become so damaged that there is no possible way to heal, to gather the lost pieces. They are gone.

Gone for eternity perhaps; you don't know.

But then you notice, it's just a matter of time— the tears have stopped just the same. Gone. Entirely.

Out of sight like they never even happened.

The pain is still there but you became so wrecked you completely oversee it. You know it is there, you know it won't just go away. But you also know there is nothing you can do about it.

So all that is left is either fight back or accept.

It hurts to fight back and get over it but it hurts to accept and continue to live with it just as much.

And so you are trapped in this endless timelaps where you are not accepting nor fighting back. You stay in this timelaps, not doing anything, not knowing how much time has passed. Or if it even passed at all.

You stay, not really dying, not really living either. You could say you are just... existing.

I think I caught myself in such a timelaps.