Author: shipchan PM
Ginny reflects on her life and how it turned out. Post war, character death.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Tragedy - Ginny W. - Words: 446 - Reviews: 1 - Published: 05-05-05 - id: 2381862
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Title: gone cold
Warnings: character death, dark fic
Disclaimer: I own nothing and am very poor
Authors note: my 1st dark fic. I'm so proud.
Summery: Ginny reflects on her life. Post war.
I did this in class one day in my note book and realized it was good. I find the characters in my stories end up like Ginny now adays. It's a bit annoying.
I started to wear black when Remus left to join Voldemort. I figured that if even a pure being like Remus couldn't fight the darkness, then why should I (or any of us for that matter?).
Fred and George teased me about it at 1st. saying things like if
Snape knew I raided his closet or if my color had faded in the wash. It didn't bother me that much until bill stated into it to. That's when I started staying in my room. Only coming out to see Harry or eat.
I stopped eating when Ron died. I didn't want to starve or anything like that, I just felt empty and that made me feel tired, too tired to even get out of bed some days. My mom let it be, saying I was sick. I did have a sickness but not with my body, with my mind. I felt trapped in my own body, Frightened of the next day. I didn't want to die just not live.
I still have dreams where I'm holding Ron's head in my lap, its cold as the snow on the ground. Or maybe that's just me. I think it's me…..
I still think everything could have been different, if Voldemort hadn't killed my family and friends one by one: If I hadn't seen Luna Lovegood blown to bits right in front of me, if I hadn't seen Neville Longbottom's face under a death eater mask.
I think I was meant to be one of those to die. One of those to get blown to bits. I think my body knows it and that's why it went cold. I think that's why I stopped caring. I think that's why I'm trending into the lake near my house;
The thin ice is breaking as I walk into it. The water comes up to my waist and I think about going back but don't, I'm never going back. The water comes over my head. It's cold under the ice, or maybe it's just me. I think it's me…..
tell me what you think, it makes me write more.