Not About Angels (A Tom Riddle Story)

Chapter 36

She stood on the edge of the black lake, looking in at her own reflection on the cold, smooth water. 

She saw a thin girl with tears streaking down her pale porcelain cheeks. 

She walks closer the the edge, more tears coming to her now. She felt the ice of the breeze penetrate her bones. She shuddered. 

She sat down on the edge, taking off her shoes and putting her feet in the ice-cold water. They instantly felt numb. 

All the flashbacks came to her. The pain. The happiness. Tom Riddle's touch, his whisper, his lips, his hair, his hands, his words, his everything. 

Their solemn promise so many years ago by the banks of the deep blue ocean. 

He said once that he lived for her. That he belonged to her, and her him. 

But it was all lies. Lies, evidently. He was the most perfect liar. Each word that came out of his beautiful mouth was a lie; yet he made it her only truth. She sank deeper and deeper into her own misery again. Abigail closed her eyes. 

Who would miss me, she whispered. Who would miss me if I jumped?  

I would. A voice answered back. 

She didn't turn around. She knew whose voice it was. She knew so clearly. 

"You would not." She told him. "You wouldn't care." 

"But I do, Abi. I would care if you left." He said gently. 

"Then why did you leave me? A second away you just pushed me away." She cried. She turns around. There he was, beautiful as always, and angel in the sunlight. 

He does not reach out to touch her. Instead, he sits down next to her. 

"Abi I-I'm sorry. And that's all I can really say. Don't go. I know you want to. But don't. Remember the promise you made. You're not allowed to die. Not until I say you can." 

She laughs a cold, empty laugh. 

"You don't own me, Tom Riddle." She says. She reaches out to touch his shoulders, but with her touch, he fades away. Evaporates into thin air. She gasps and choked back more tears. 

She puts her face into her hands and wept. She realized how stupid she had been. She felt despair-but she didn't want to die. Not really. She wanted to keep fighting. 

Tom Riddle stood across the back, watching her. He threw a rock into the water in frustration, leaving ripples and soft waves in the black water.  He had sent his shadow to her. He could not face her. 

He was afraid. He was afraid, goddammit. If he saw her face again, he might lose his composure. 

His heart was so cold. Colder than the winter ice, colder than the glaciers. 

He thought that if he strayed far away, if he pushed her away, he could do great things. Without her, he had no attachments. No emotions. No heart. 

Once upon a time, a young boy learned from his parent's mistakes that love will destroy everything in its path. Everything. So he threw away his heart. He dropped it to the bottom the ocean the day he turned eleven. He threw away the red, beating heart and replaced it with the monster inside his head. 

He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned bright white. He will not go to her.  He cannot face her. 

Tom Riddle never even blinked in the face of danger. Of death. Of murder. But she was the one he cannot face right now.