𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐂𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 (OC x OC) - Full Series

[007] CHAPTER 21 - ANESTHESIA

"i didn't know the pain until it hit me in the face."
|| alexa valentino

Makayla Malfoy

Louis and I aren't speaking. Honestly, what else is new? I can tell that he doesn't hate me, but I also know that he can't bear to look at me. Whenever our eyes lock, he doesn't look at me with disgust. Instead, with disappointment. And that disappointment radiates toward my inner soul, my only feeling being doubt that I'll ever get that trust I destroyed back.

I don't even think that I deserve it. Maybe he doesn't think that either. I wouldn't be surprised. The look in his eyes kills me to the point that I genuinely hope that Voldemort loses, just so I don't have to suffer in a world where Louis doesn't talk to me.

I find myself waking up in the middle of the night, the dreams and nightmares becoming too much to bear. It's always the same circumstance, but in a different font. I hate it.

The letter keeps appearing. I can't push it out of my mind and it stays tattooed in my memories. The words are poisoning my living. I can't sleep—I can't eat. All I want is to be put out of my misery. But I know that the world isn't so kind.

The world watches my chest heave up and down and laughs in the face of my anguish. Please, I ask. Make it stop. It never stops. It only gets worse as time progresses and I'm left to deal with it.

I scream, but no one can hear me and I'm pretty sure I can't even hear myself. Deep in my soul, I can feel myself falling apart. The petals of my rose fall to the ground, leaving just a stem of thorns. That's all I am. It isn't surprising. All I do is hurt anyone who tries to get close. Louis got too close and I pricked his finger, putting his love to sleep. It's all my fault.

Harry is currently upstairs, talking with Ann. He's up there with Hermione, Louis, Penelope, and Ron. Mattheo and I are left alone downstairs, the only sounds being Bill and Fleur's quiet conversion in the kitchen. I can't help but wonder if this is my life now. If I'll never be able to feel that warm feeling you get in that stomach when you're happy again. Or if I'll never get that tight feeling in my throat when I laugh to the point that I can't breathe. As I wonder and wonder and wonder and wonder, I start to realize just how much I took my life for granted. I could've made so much of this life, but now I'm slowly killing myself and there's no returning from that. No returning to how it used to be, at least.

The longer I'm left alone with my thoughts, the more the guilt eats at my soul. I can only look back on my life and feel regret, wondering what I could've done to possibly prevent my life from falling to shambles. What would my life look like if I never left Louis behind when we were kids? How much better would my life be if I hadn't been a coward and chased my father's wishes? If I hadn't left the only friend I had for someone who'd betray me later on. I can only think and think and think, but I know nothing would've changed. This ink magically carved into my skin is my destiny. My life really is a tragedy. I've been fated to a maculated prison that is my mind and a bad sense of machination. And I call myself a Slytherin.

There are many words I wish that I could say. I wish I could apologize to Ann. Apologize for the way I spoke to her back at my home. She didn't deserve that. I wish I could apologize to Louis. For everything. For the lies, for the disappointment, for the pain. If I could wish for one thing in this entire world, it would be to reverse all the pain I've caused. I wish I could apologize to Nora. I've left her behind for the third time now. How many times can I abandon her before she abandons me?

The regret in my soul sinks into my posture as I slouch further and further into the couch. I don't know what's become of me. There's no way that this is my life from now on. No one speaks to me. No one looks at me. No one trusts me. What point is there in living if there's nothing left to live for? That's been a question I've asked myself since I was 12 years old, and the thought has never wavered from its stance in my mind. It's still rather intriguing, but something in my mind holds me back, as if I'm being protected somehow. It confuses me until I remember just the person who can do that.

I sigh as I feel my surroundings start to shift. My eyes flutter closed for only a moment, but when I open them, I'm in the starry void. Ares isn't here. I can tell. It's only blue here.

"Hello, Athena," I mumble.

"You're destroying yourself," she says, her voice booming behind me. I turn around, having to look up to see her face, given how abnormally large she is whenever she wants to have a conversation with me.

"What if I'm already destroyed and I'm just playing with the pieces?" I ask, running a hand through my hair as I glance around the void, wondering if this platform I'm on ever ends, and if it's possible for me to find that ending and meet my end. Of course, I don't say it out loud, but Athena knows everything. She's got her outer-worldly fingers dug into every groove and lobe of my brain. If she wants me to stop thinking this way, she might as well move them and make me. I know she wants to, but unfortunately, she's the morally efficient war god. Sometimes I wish that Ares was somewhere in the wisdom field, but if that were the case, they'd be the same and he wouldn't act on impulse all the time. Maybe that's why I'm always so emotional lately. Ares has been influencing me for a while.

"You can't just run away from your issues by dying, Makayla," she attests, earning a groan from me.

My head is now in my hands as I bluster, "Why not? It's not like anyone will care! Preston is wrong! Nobody would bat an eye!"

Athena is silent.

Too silent.

I can feel her gaze weighing down on me. I wish it would crush me. That it would break every bone in my bone and make me feel the pain I deserve. When I see the tension in her jaw grow, I know she heard that. As much as I appreciate the company, I hate the lack of privacy. Heck, she probably heard that, too.

"I did," she states, her tone firm and numb, like she doesn't want me to know how she's feeling. How calculated of her.

I sigh. "Can you just... Athena, can you at least say something?" I ask. "I hate the quiet..."

"I know," she concedes. "But seeing how things are going, you might want to start getting used to the quiet."

My throat is suddenly closed up and my tongue is glued to the roof of my mouth. I can't speak and can barely move. What is that supposed to mean? She couldn't possibly mean that things get worse from here...

Right?