She was a misfit, he was a git.
Matilda Diggory enters her fifth year of school, ready to remain as under the radar as possible, only there's a catch. She's somehow managed to catch the eye of a particularly annoying redhead, who seems hell-bent on...
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Sometimes, Matilda thought she could hear the darkness at night.
It was a low, monotonous hum that reverberated within her mind, an unwelcome presence of which she despised. The perpetual buzz of it weighed heavily, a reminder of the thoughts she had buried deep within. In the shadows, those dormant thoughts thrived, brewing into something sinister. No one understood the dangers of darkness better than she did, for she had witnessed its malevolent force firsthand. The loathing to that ominous hum remained etched in her soul, an enduring testament to the power of suppressed memories and the pain they concealed.
Her mind had become a savage place over the past fortnight.
Flashes of the night she was attacked by Greyback haunted her each evening, plaguing her mind for the rest of the following day. There was more, though; the dreams carried a sickening darkness that Matilda swore hung around her like thick fog; encompassing her body in a state of paralysis for hours each morning.
Cedric was getting worried. One day, where she'd spent most of the daylight staring at Sinead O'Conner above her bed, he bought her favourite snacks from down the street in hopes that it would lift her spirits.
They still sat on her cluttered desk where he left them three days ago.
Sammy had been around twice since Greyback's first appearance in her sleep. For both these times, Matilda managed to come down for dinner and partake in small conversation with her old friend, only to disappear at the earliest opportunity.
Agatha had been concerned when Matilda came into work for her shift that morning, asking about the dark circles settling underneath her brown eyes. Matilda had brushed it off, blaming it on the summer birds interrupting her sleep, but Matilda knew Agatha wasn't a fool.
She was driving back from a late shift with 'Landslide' by Fleetwood Mac playing through the speakers as she held her cigarette out the window. That was another thing: Matilda's desire for a smoke only increased with the frequency of her terrors.
Turning her car off as she pulled into her front yard, Matilda took one last drag of her cigarette before throwing it out the window. She climbed out of her car and stomped it out, swung her bag over her shoulder and headed towards the back door.
Surprisingly, her family was sitting at the dining table eating happily, accompanied by Sammy and her parents. Matilda managed to creep through the back of the house, avoiding any doorways where she would be spotted by her family and their guests, and closed her door as quietly as possible as she entered her room. She didn't mean to be antisocial or rude, she just...didn't have the clarity for it. Not when looking at Sammy meant thinking about that week spent in the shed just outside.
She tiptoed over to her bed and kicked off her shoes, snuggling into her pillows without changing out of her clothes. As a gentle breeze wafted through her open window, a tiny scrap of paper on the window sill captured her gaze. Matilda reached for the letter and read it with a furrowed brow.
