Scars

Darkness

Hermoine

Darkness is my only constant in this world of unknowns, it overpowers my senses and controls my emotions. But when there is only darkness as your companion - you grow to appreciate all it does for us - for it allows us to take a breath, to give us time, like it gives me. It is giving me freedom, away from the pity - I know - will be in people's eyes. But it also gives me a false sense of security, because when I wake up from this peace, everything will be different. I know it is time for me to wake up, to leave, but I can't pull myself away.

I don't want to wake up to the world where I am ashamed of myself, ashamed of the skin I'm stuck in. Because I am stuck. Stuck in this nightmare that I know is real. Stuck in this darkness that I know is fake. Stuck in a body I'll know I'll hate. I'm stuck reliving the moment I fear the most. I can still feel the burning and the immense pain that came with it. I can still hear the screams that ripped from my throat until it was raw from shouting for the help that I knew would never come. The fire consumed everything in its way, burning it all. My body. My soul. Myself. Burning. Until nothing was left but a shell - stuck in the darkness. Waiting.

For help. For safety. For it to stop. I retreated into my mind, the one place I knew I could trust because my magic didn't save me. Neither did Harry or Ron, or the empty promises of safety after the war. They all lied, I wasn't safe, I'd never been safe. Not until all the evil that threatened our peace was dead. Then, and only then, could I rest easy knowing that my life's work was complete. That I didn't have to be cautious or look around every corner expecting the worse

I can still feel the pain, but it's a distant memory now. I can't let it, the pain, the raw terror, take over, or I know I'll be stuck here forever. Like Neville's parents and all the others that fell into insanity. They crossed the line, but I can be strong. I would be strong. For those who kept their promises. For Harry, for Ron. 

For me.

I have to fight the darkness of my mind, it's keeping me here to help me heal. But I don't just want to heal, I want to survive. To live my life as normally as I can. To get a job, a family and grow until old age. But that isn't true, is it? As much as I fight it, I live for the thrill of an adventure, of mystery, of war. So, I won't just hide in my mind - to heal - I'm going to fight. Fight the darkness that threatens to take over, to pull me into its embrace of empty promises. 

I can sense the light growing, it's piercing the black, and giving me a little hope. Hope. The one thing I wish I had. But how can I hope when I am damaged. Damaged beyond repair. Dark magic has no cure, and I was bathed in dark magic. The magic that corrupts the soul and leaves lasting damage in the forms of scars, heartbreak, misery and anguish. But I can sense the darkness growing weaker, it's hold on me is nearly gone. 

Goodbye darkness.

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The first thing I see is white, so different from the darkness I am used to. It's everywhere, and it suffocates me. White walls. White roof. White bed. White. White. White. Where is the darkness that offers safety? Where are Harry and Ron? Where are those that should have saved me? Gone. They are all gone.

Beep.

They have left me alone in this white room and my emotions are cracking. My walls are breaking and I can do nothing to stop it. Tears carve paths down my cheeks and sobs catch in my throat. I try to move my arms, to hide the tears that make me weak, but I can't move.

Beep. Beep.

I try to look at my arms but my head barely moves an inch. I thought I had escaped the feeling of being alone and unguarded, but once again I am stuck. Stuck in this never ending nightmare of dark and light, war, and peace. Of being stuck. Every time I try to escape ends in tears and silent sobs that shake my body and crumble my barriers. I try to wriggle my legs but I'm like stone. Unyielding.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My breathing picks up and my control is shattering. Soon I will burn again. I can feel the fire coursing through my veins, the anger of being alone igniting a fury I never knew I had. I fear my anger and I fear what I can do with it.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

My heartbeat is racing and I can feel my palms sweating. My last shreds of control broke and a flash of purple energy pulsed out of me and shook the room. Choking on another sob, my skin starts to burn and I have the sudden urge to scratch at my skin till the sensation stops. It brings back painful memories of the sounds of curses ricocheting off the walls and the image of angry red flames forever branded in my eyes.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

My eyes burn and I start to feel light and queasy. As my vision blurs I can just see a hazy silhouette rush towards me before I willingly fall into the welcoming embrace of the familiar darkness.