WARNING! This chapter may be considered triggering; please read with caution.
Draco's POV
It had been a week since my first encounter with Potter and I could already tell that I was really going to struggle to concentrate this year. I was becoming more and more aware of the presence of dementors around the school and they really weren't helping my current state. Wherever I went, I felt a draining sadness tugging on my brain, adding tiny cracks to the already weak walls in my mind, letting the black smog seep into my conscious brain slightly more with every hour. I knew no ways of truly ridding myself of these feelings so instead I pretended I was fine - smirking and sneering - but never frowning and certainly not crying. I couldn't remember the last time I ate - the oppressive atmosphere in my mind restrained any feelings of hunger, just great tiredness, and terrible sadness. I felt trapped in a cage of my own imagination, numbed to everything except sadness and fake smiles. I could feel myself go through the day to day actions of life but felt myself simply pick up nothing new.
The worst moments were when I was near Potter. When I passed him in the corridors, I blanked, at the slightest moments of eye contact across the room, the black engulfed me, and in potions class, my whole body tensed expecting great pain at any moment. And, possibly worst of all, I was haunted even in my waking hours by a tall blonde man I had called my father for so many years. Except it can't be 'haunting' for my father isn't dead, and it can't be in my head because it feels so real. I get the feeling that my father is using some dark sort of legilimancy to invade my brain and create an apparition of himself - that sounded like the type of sick thing he would do.
It was evening and I was lying in the dormitories alone with my thoughts when a sudden almost unbearable pain shot through my entire being. I only just managed to draw the curtains around my bed and whisper 'muffliato' before my back arched in unfathomable pain and a scream ripped through my body.
Standing at the end of my bed was Father, staring down at me with disdain, and ... Potter? My heart stopped, my blood ran cold, and my body shuddered and convulsed shaking under the cruciatus curse that Potter was inflicting on me! 'Hello again son' father hissed at me with acidic tones 'don't you look brave, cowering on your bed alone' I shuddered in pain looking at both the people in front of me , my father was sneering down at me as usual, but Potter, his face was like it always used to be at the manor, smirking and malicious becoming more maniacal with every scream he ripped from me.
'Father, please' I begged 'Help ..... Me' my speech was interrupted by labored breathing and yells of agony. At my pleas, they both started laughing. Insane, madman laughter that chilled my quivering body to the bone and drenched my clammy skin in a layer of cold sweat. 'What have you become Malfoy' Potter hissed at me never lowering his wand. 'You resist against your shadows, and you hide behind a mask. You cover your body in pathetic scars that mean nothing. I can give you some real scars to think about. Not ones filled with attempts at control. No. Scars filled with self-hatred. This really will be fun...'
Suddenly, the two people in front of me disappeared and I was left shaking in my bed recovering from the shock of what I had just experienced and the pain I had just received. I curled up into a ball and shook, wishing I could just sink into the floor and die. Oblivion sounded like a very welcome thing. Just when I thought it was all over and my breathing had leveled out once more, I heard a hissing noise by the back of my head. Rolling over from my curled ball, I saw nothing except my bed-side cabinet and a glimmer of silver. 'You really are useless Malfoy' I jumped with a start at the sound of Potter's voice 'this really won't be difficult at all, your brain is already full of self-hate , I just need to let it in' I gasped trying to block out the sound of his voice by covering my ears and curling into a ball . But the voice still echoed from inside my head 'you are fat, you're a disappointment, an unneeded entity, your parents hate you, you have no friends, everyone around you wants you dead, it's selfish to deny them of that wish.' I was shaking again, sobbing as I felt my weak walls crumble and the blackness rush in like a tsunami. ' your father wants you dead, he thinks that if you can't kill me, the golden boy, you should kill yourself. If your parents can't love you, who can?' It was true, every word was true. I would be doing everyone a favor by just ending it all. 'Fat'
"stop it, please!" I cried.
'useless' I felt tears stream down my face "stop!"
'pathetic' I was shaking , clawing at my hair and pulling it out in chunks
'die' "please , please stop" I choked on my tears and my bloodshot eyes drifted back over to the cabinet and the little gleam of silver,
'kill yourself' "PLEASE PLE-please st-stop s-saying these th-things."
'I'm not saying all these things, I'm just picking them up from your mind, one little cut is all it takes. Then two, then twenty. It will relieve the pain I promise. Or you could just slit your wrists entirely - it will do everyone a favor.'
I was crying rivers of tears, and the promise of oblivion sounded so, so tempting. One shaky hand reached out to the bedside cabinet and grabbed the little silver blade, bringing it back towards me and placing it shakily against my left wrist, pressing into my already scarred skin. 'That's it, well done Malfoy.'
I pulled the blade across by skin, cutting deep and watching through teary eyes at the trail of Crimson that followed the silver. I pulled the blade away and moved it up my arm cutting again. And again. I was getting angrier and angrier, cutting deeper and deeper. Watching in morbid fascination as forty cuts became fifty and fifty became fifty-five and fifty-five became one scarlet covered arm. I could feel myself fading out of consciousness and in my last few seconds awake, I lifted my wand in my right arm, pointed at my curtains and muttered "colloportus Maxima" before my eyelids became heavy and I was lost to the world....
[A/N] yikes, I got deep this time.
YOU ARE READING
Perfectly Broken (Under Editing)
Fanfiction"The fire on his wrists cast shadows into his thoughts."
