Breathe Me ( A Bullied By The Marauders Era Fanfiction / Remus Lupin Love Story)

Chapter 6

Re-Written!

-Chapter 6-

A cold sensation took over Claire's body as she awoke to a mugful of ice cold water being chucked onto her warm, delicate skin. Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams are better than reality. The saddest part of it is, though, that eventually even the memory of your dream will fade - if you are even lucky enough to remember it that is. Then you're left with this lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore in the empty void of emotions, the only proof that you ever had the dream to begin with. Claire had to many emotions to deal with. Each was spinning around her head like an endless cycle. It was too early in the day to feel like this, but this is how Claire always felt. "Sorry." Lily squeaked as Claire's eyes diverted towards her, "I couldn't wake you up. Dumbledore want's to see you, I'm not sure why." Lily sent her a small, yet pleasant smile as she went back to her business, which was presumably cleaning her part of the shared room. As she does every morning, Claire  grabbed fresh clothing which she had layed out on her dresser the night before. A simple long sleeved jumper, jeans and shoes. She walked leisurely to the shower, steam filling the room as she cut the shower on. She bathed her skin lightly, taking careful notice not to touch the bruises that scattered her body. After her shower was finished and She slumped into the room In a towel. Anxiety was eating at her insides, it must have been as she thought she heard whispering. Perhaps it was the voices in her head. Though four people knew different. She dropped her towel in front of a full body mirror and winced at how she looked. Tears built up in her eyes, so she quickly looked away and pulled on some underwear. Then looked back at her reflection.Crying had always been a healthy release, but for Claire, it was a habit now. The blue feeling washed in like an unwanted wave, knocking her sandcastles flat. Then what? Was she supposed to construct them again? Get that bucket and spade out and make it pretty all over again? She sat on her bed. No more building, no more castles. She sat and stared out of the window, more tears, no surprise there. She let them fall, not raising a hand to stop them. They splashed down onto the bed  in a rain-like pattern and soaked in leaving dark splotches on the coffee coloured sheets. There was more where that came from, what percentage water was she anyway? Less than a cucumber but certainly enough to cry for hours. And what then? Then she'd drink another glass of water and start all over again. She took action quickly, grabbing a nearby shard and sliced into her arm. Again. Again. And again.  A small cut. A large cut. A deep cut. She didn't care. She felt stupid, worthless and completely awful. She cleaned each cut in her bathroom sink. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't feel anymore. Claire cried like there was too much raw pain inside her to be contained. She cried like her spirit needed to break loose from her skin, desperate to release an elemental rage on the world. Claire was beyond all reason, beyond all natural methods of calming. Half an hour passed before Claire could  compose herself. She wiped her eyes and went back into her room. Disposing of the bloody blade in its previous position behind the dresser. Grabbing a chocolate frog and her favourite book, Claire made her way downstairs with her head held down. Who knows what today holds.