To Hurt and To Heal

Reach For the Fire

Part 2

By the time Delphini Lestrange was eighteen, she was already on the dark side. A part of her was truly lost and gone forever. But she didn't have time to think about that. Or rather than she didn't want to. But deep down, in her wounded soul, she knew one day, she was going to break free.

She prayed for hours, not to anyone in particular, she wasn't sure if there was a higher power, but if there was, she hoped they would listen to her. But the hours turned into days which turned into weeks and soon months and years. The truth hurts, she learned. And part of her believed it was karma and the other part of her knew it was unfair. She didn't quite know what was unfair yet but she knew. It was a strong feeling, one that kept her feet on the ground and her mind constantly rummaging through her past.

She had admitted to the darkness, but not really because she had been there. In her first home with Rodolphus and Euphemia. For all of her life, she had been used in some way or form. She was afraid that she wouldn't come back. Maybe it was from her trauma, the pain of it all. But the things she saw, she watched with her own eyes- she wanted to flee, to break out of this- wherever she was now.

She wanted to run away from this dark side but the truth is She was too scared to live with her despair.
Some might say she was even terrified of the things she felt and of the things she's able to feel. She needed to save this life she knew she did but she didn't.

She knew her family would get her knowhere, she was on her own with her father or without. He would break her in the process but she would stay, she was loyal, she had to be, didn't she? She felt as if she belonged to the dark side- the new army. But she couldn't help her mind from turning back to Padfoot, not that he would want to help her now- save her but she wondered just maybe...maybe he would want to help her.

Her mind began to twist with every meeting, activity, conversation she had with one of them. It wrecked her, it broke her and ruined her. Her mind was just a muse for her father to take advantage of. She didn't want to be responsible, she really didn't.

She needed to put on her mask and disappear into the crowd.

*

"I don't want people to worry about me," I say, in almost a whisper.

"Then don't give them something to worry over," Annie says, almost as quiet as me.

"There's nothing to worry about."

" I don't want people to try and understand why I'm the way I am, because I should be the first person to understand that. And I don't understand yet. I don't want people to interfere. I don't want people in my head, picking out this and that, permanently picking up the broken pieces of me."

I feel like I should end that sentence with a 'you know?' or a 'that's something to think about," but I don't and I think that scared her even more.

"All I know is that I'm here. And I'm alive. And I'm alone."

"That's scary. As far as I'm concerned, I was always this way. I probably came out of the womb spitting criticism and wishing for thunderstorms but maybe that's just me."

"You like to act as if you care about nothing and if you carry on like that then you're going to drown in the abyss you have imagined for yourself," she replies.

I want to say something along the lines of well that's deep.

"There's a time and there's a place for being normal and I've certainly never followed the rules."

"So you like to break them?"

I shake my head, firmly, "no, I've just never listened."

"You look like you're having a midlife crisis."

"Not a midlife crisis. Just a life crisis."

"It's just- I've realised that Nobody is honest, nobody is real. Everyone literally doesn't care about you unless you're useful. Emotions are a disease and we're all dying."

"What about the other important things in life?"

"Those don't matter?" She questions.

"There comes a point, though, when you can't keep looking after other people any more. You have to start looking after yourself."

"It's sad but it's true. Do you think that, if we were happy for our entire lives, we would die feeling like we'd missed out on something?"

"I actually think, you could spend all your life perfectly together and you'd still be craving something," she replies.

"The problem is that people don't act. The problem is that I don't act. I just sit here, doing nothing, assuming that someone else is going to make things better."

"And that's not fair to the rest of the world, is it? Tell me I'm wrong. I want to be wrong."

"We're so used to disaster that we accept it. We think we deserve it."

"Just because something doesn't matter doesn't mean it's not worth doing," she says, replying in a sad tone.

"I think it's better to live in the present rather than dwell in the past."

"Because it's easier?" I ask her, actually curious to hear the answer.

"Because it's the right thing to do."

"Happiness doesn't come from your fear but it can come from change."

"And nothing's going to change until you decide you want it to change."

We pause, realising the deepness and realness of our conversation.

"I really don't do anything unless I actually want to do it. And most of the time I don't want to do anything at all."

"I mean if this is the best time of my life, I might as well end it immediately."

She shakes her head, confused. "Every one tells you this," I motion around us, "it's the golden years."

"But the truth is, the wait- patience can kill you."

"I think the wait is all fake. Everyone is faking. Why does no one care about anything?"

I shrug, "Just because someone smiles doesn't mean that they're happy."

"So maybe they do, we just don't know it because if we don't see it with our own eyes, we choose not to believe it."

"Maybe you're right," she admits. " I don't know why most won't even look me in the eye. I don't understand anything you're doing or saying, and it's killing me, because I already don't understand a single thing about me or you or the Death Eaters or my brother or anything on this shitty planet."

"It's a new revaluation." I stand back. "That's what makes one day different from the next."

"And yeah, maybe sometimes I wish I were a normal human being. But I can't. I'm not. No matter how hard I try."

"That's sort of powerful, isn't it?" She asks, keeping her head held high.

"So," she says, slyly raising an eyebrow in the process. "You hate yourself. I hate myself. Common interests. We should get together."

I laugh, my head jolting back. "Who knows? Maybe we both are manically depressed psychopaths."

"Yes, the happiness of sadness."

I sigh, "This is too much mind-fuckery for this time of day. I'm not even sure I'm actually awake."

She raises her arms above her head and screams, "I AM THE MOST SANE INDIVIDUAL ON THIS WHOLE PLANET!"

I can't help but laugh to myself, maybe if this was a different situation, I would even console her but then again I would be quite sure what I was consoling.

It's sad but it's true.