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Date Posted: 10:17:47 03/09/02 Sat
Author: ginny weasley
Subject: drowning from within..
In reply to: Draco Malfoy 's message, "This is me pretending this is all I need" on 01:36:43 03/09/02 Sat

Auburn tresses are pushed away from the pale, tear streaked cheeks of the youthful female who is gradually being shoved into the most important stage of metamorphosis. Change. How she hates the word that spins webs of misery within the abyss of her scarred mentality. Her eyes don't seem to be looking at anyone, just passed them all, as though they are all transparent...as though this is a mere dream that she is forced to haunt. How wonderful it'd be if it were just a bad dream, something that could be deleted from recollection the moment that she awoke. However, it is all real...and one truth stands out in the midst of the rest of memories. Fred is gone for eternity, and he left without her being able to tell him that she did love him. In fact, her last words to him were 'I HATE YOU FRED WEASLEY!' The memory brings fresh tears stinging at the back of her eyeballs, the eyes that itch like crazy because of all of the saltine liquid that she has lost for the ones that no longer exist on earth. An uncontrollable trembling that runs up and down her spine with a ruthless nature harasses her figure, made feeble from lack of food. The soundless tears continue their path down her colorless skin, uninterrupted by her digits; in fact they go entirely unnoticed by the defeated female. With a rickety sigh she gradually meanders the boat's length, traveling to the exit at the back of the line, as though she wishes to escape from identification, but it is actually due to the fact that her lower limbs just don't want to move. The sensation of her stomach lurching, not unfamiliar occurs, but she manages to keep the bile down. A gentle whimper escapes, her appearance now an unhealthy, milky glow because of the nauseous feeling that lingers ruthlessly, as if her very own body is preparing to betray her. She seems to be 'human' enough to mentally curse the boat and the desolate sea, promising that she'll never look at the livid waves the same way again…not after that dreadful expedition from wreckage to the petrifying unknown. She does her best to stay away from everybody, but her gaze wanders the docking area as if she searches for a nonexistent soul. She suddenly notices that the melancholy creatures that seem to drift about in a daze assault her personal space unintentionally. Why can’t they watch where they’re going?' She asks herself in irritation, experiencing the recurring resentment that she has traveled around with ever since that hideous, terrorizing night. Her eyes slither toward the castle in a frightened method, as though timid to the reality that any resemblance shall bring memories swarming her, and they do, only with a severity that she didn’t expect. Caught by surprise, she staggers backward, colliding inelegantly with another student. She doesn't bother with apologies, aware that she is much too lost within herself to vocalize anything but moans and whimpers. She backs away from the castle as though it is contaminated with a lethal malady, almost not willing to enter what shall become her new home.

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