The Abuser

The Happening

I'm sorry for everything, oh everything I've done. From the second that I was born, it seems I had a loaded gun. And then I shot, shot, shot a hole through everything I loved. Oh I shot, shot, shot a hole through every single thing that I loved.

- Shots by Imagine Dragons

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A/N: Once again, this chapter may contain a trigger for self-harm by mentioning the effects of The Pen. Please be good to yourself- love, Astoria.

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"DeLuce!" A loud voice echoes in my ear and rough hands shake my shoulders. "Wake up! Come on, your boyfriend's in the common room throwing a fit cause you're late for your date or something...hell, I don't know! Just get up already."

I grunt and turn slightly, lifting my crumpled face from my bloodstained pillow. My mouth hurts....what time is it? Date? Oh, darn!

My roommate Millicent Bullstrode looms over me like a leering ogress. "Get your sorry ass out of bed, witch, and- OH MY GOSH!" She jumps back, her hand clapped over her mouth, looking like she's just seen a vampire. She gives me an ugly look full of disgust and horror, then promptly dashes from the room.

I drag myself from my bed, my mind numb with an aching exhaustion. I grope for my wand, knocking over the picture of James Marcus that I've kept by my bedside all these years. It looks a little lost amongst the dozens of photos of Draco and I... but I love it best of all. I straighten it up and hurry groggily across my dorm. I fumble for the bathroom door, stumbling into the small room. I must have gone to bed while still wearing my clothes and they're practically drenched in dried blood. I look into the mirror and a horribly haggard girl gazes dully back at me. My eyes widen in terror and recognition as I bring my hand up to my ruined face. Scrawled in large, capital, letters across my lower cheeks and lips, pearly white scars spell "HUSSY". The words stand out clearly against the crimson stain of my bloodied face.

Tears rush to my eyes as I recall the events of the previous night. Detention with Dolores Jane Umbridge. Lines. I didn't get back till well past 4 in the morning and by that time I was so tired and in so much pain that I didn't bother to get undressed or even look in the mirror. I grasp my pounding head, salty tears oozing down my cheeks and mixing with the dried blood to fall in crimson splashes on the ground.

Why is this happening to me? Every message in my life is telling me that I'm defective—that I'm not good enough and not worthy to be treated with the respect humanity deserves! I know I'm not beautiful, I know I'm nothing special... but am I really bad enough for this treatment? I had thought, after Draco and I settled our differences and came to terms with our love, that the misery would end. I had hoped for a normal life—I have a family (of sorts), I have a loving boyfriend, and three best friends. Tears fall liberally from my eyes as I wrestle with my negative thoughts. My self-image has always been a struggle for me, and through the help of the few positive influences I have, I was beginning to come to terms with my body and self. But now... now I'm marked as a sinner—labeled clearly for all to see as an immoral woman, and I don't think that any amount of reassuring words will entirely restore the confidence that I was beginning to find.

I remove my clothes and turn on the water for a bath. I can hardly think straight...but one thing is certain in my mind; I don't want to see my boyfriend Draco Malfoy. I sink into the bath, watching the curling scarlet ribbons of blood as they swirl through the water. I wash my face, running my fingers over the still tender remnants of my punishment.

After my bath, I brush and plait my hair and pull on a simple grey cardigan. I put on my pleated, black skirt and high lace-up boots, then rummage through my wardrobe until I locate my Slytherin house scarf. It's long and striped with alternating bands of green and white. I wrap it firmly around my throat and over my mouth and cheeks till it completely covers my pale scars.