amnesia | d.m.

chapter 35

song: game of survival
by: ruelle

TRIGGER WARNING: themes of depression, suicide, self harm. please read at your own risk. there's some mild violence as well.

a/n: if you haven't noticed already, i tackle a lot of themes that kids, teens, and adults struggle with today such as depression, self-esteem, skin color etc. and i will continue to incorporate these issues into my story bc these are real life problems that should never go ignored. Always raise awareness, with every platform you've got.

i want you all know that these are some issues ive dealt with myself/seen firsthand and if you experience any of these don't be afraid to reach out to someone close to you or someone to talk to.

please, take care of yourselves and your mental health x

..............

Terra

Winter break.

I managed to usher Ambretta home along with many of her belongings. She resisted for quite awhile until she received a howler from her mother. It was quite amusing the way Ambretta was mildly horrified when she opened the howler.

I sat in the library near a window where I usually enjoyed and watched the snow. I was trying to focus my mind, think about any missing pieces from my past but I couldn't concentrate. My head was hurting worse than usual. And for the past half hour there was a young boy sitting across the library, watching me with interest, pretending to flip through a book.

I didn't know how to react so I turned and faced away, closing my eyes so I could focus. All I could think about was my mother but in no way did I have any recollection of her speaking of Voldemort. Of course, I didn't expect her too. But even the smallest bit of clues may guide me somewhere.

My dreams came and went. Some days I went weeks without seeing him in my nightmares. Other days, his face was replaced with my mother's. It was she, I was dueling. It was she who was casting the curse on me. And it was always the same dream just in different settings. Sometimes it was the Gryffindor tower or courtyard outside Hogwarts. Sometimes it was in my own home in America. And that snake, it was always there.

But I couldn't shake the memories of that dream I had of Draco and I. The smell of his sheets, the coldness of his hands, the soft strands of his hair. It felt too real. As if it wasn't a dream at all. And the only recollection I had of that night was of coming back to the Slytherin common room after listening in on his conversation with Snape. The next thing I knew, I had woken up on my bed.

Maybe it was fucking brain damage. Losing bits and pieces of my own life. But if I could excel in school, surely it couldn't have been the strain of amnesia taking a toll on my brain. If I could successfully pass the OWLs, how could I forget memories from mere days ago? It didn't make sense, none of it made fucking sense. It was driving me crazy almost to the point of insanity. I felt so angry with myself, with my life. I was beginning to feel fed up of this constant battle that I was fighting blindly. Waking up to pieces of my life then feeling defeated when no one else remembered what I did.

Maybe...

Maybe if I ended it all, everyone would remember. Maybe if I woke up dead, I could see everyone would suddenly know that I existed way before I showed up in my Fifth year. Maybe then my mother would seek me out, find me, and shower me with her love again. Voldemort already thinks I'm dead. I could drink poison, or maybe climb to the top of a tower, or use the curse that all wizards and witches feared.