A/N: This is a one-shot, song-fic kinda thing that I'm writing on my friends computer. It was 11 pm and I was tired, so please forgive my Englishal Grammar. Thanks. This is also free-lance writing, completely just coming from my head.
I kinda got the idea from the Everybody's Fool (Evanescence) film clip, but the song is Breathe no more (same artist).
Flames will be used for baking chocolate-chip biscuits, and if you review, you'll get one.
Warnings: Strong self abuse, language, violent images, you know the drill. I seriously didn't know I could write this type of stuff. Oh, and this ISN'T slash. Well, probably if you squint, then turn your head that way, then close one eye, then close the other…
Disclaimer: ugh, gosh, you people just love rubbing it in don't you? ((I don't own))
I'm really sorry if this sucks, but I'm almost delusional, and this is my first time trying to write something this emotional. :P
Breathe No More
I've been looking in the mirror so long
And that I've come to believe my souls on the other side
All the little pieces falling shatter
Shards of me to sharp to put back together
Amy locked the door behind her, leaning over the bathroom sink. Her breath came in sharp stabs, hurting her chest and throat. Tears ran freely down her face, almost unnoticed.
She had hurriedly excused herself from the dinner table when Mrs. Weasly and Sirius, her Godfather, had started to argue about whether or not to tell her about the Order.
Didn't they trust her? Were they just like the rest of the Wizarding World at the moment? Did they think she was crazy?
"Ugh!" Amy screeched as she punched the wall mirror in front of her eyes, the glass shattering and falling, almost in slow-motion to Amy's tear filled eyes.
Too small to matter
But big enough to cut me into so many little pieces
If I try to touch her
And I bleed
And I breathe
I breathe no more
Amy collapsed into a fit of dry sobs, putting her bleeding fingers to her face in a vain attempt to muffle them.
She was sick of it. Sick of being the "Girl-Who-Lived" of being a stupid icon! Not even a year ago, everyone was on her side, everyone trusted that she had defeated Voldemort, once and for all.
But now, Fudge was out to get her. Amy grabbed a large piece of glass angrily, the shard cutting into her palm. The pain felt good, almost like it was bleeding out all her sorrow, her grief.
Her hand was begging to throb, but she didn't mind. The bloody welts on her arms and hands were reminders, battle scars.
Take a breath and I try to draw from my spirits well
And yet again you refuse to drink like a stubborn child
Oh, lie to me
Convince me that I've been sick forever
And all of this will make sense when I get better
But I know the difference between myself and my reflection
I just can't help but to wonder
Which of us do you love?
She wanted more.
She stabbed the glass into the crook of her elbow with a satisfied smile, watching the blood run a river down her pale arm.
She sobbed openly, not bothering to quiet herself down, she didn't care if anyone heard her; it's not like anyone would care anyway.
Amy laughed coldly at the thought.
The Girl-Who-Lived pulled the shard out of her arm, her long fingers shaking with a sense of vertigo, even though she was sitting on the bathroom floor.
Amy heard someone trying to open the door and looked up. "Amy?" Came a worried voice. Sirius' worried voice. "Amy!?" She waited a few seconds, staring pointedly at her arm until she heard a muttered "Alohomora" And the door opened slowly.
And I bleed
And I breathe…I breathe no,
Bleed, I breathe
Sirius stood in the bathroom doorway. First taking in the shattered mirror, then the blood and glass on the floor…and finally Amy.
"Oh, Amy!" He soothed quietly, moving around the glass to kneel next to Amy. Sirius leant in to hold his Goddaughter, taking the shard of glass out of her hands in the process.
Amy sobbed into his shoulder, pouring her heart out to him. He rubbed comforting circles on her back, whispering words in her ears.
Soon Amy's sobs turned into small whimpers, then Sirius put his hand onto the stab in the crook of her elbow gently. "Hey," He said gently, making her look up at him. "Did you do this all by yourself?" Amy managed a watery smile as she looked ashamed of her paroxysm.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Sirius asked after a while. Amy shook her head and Sirius stood up, sweeping his wand along the room, and the mirror repaired itself and the dried blood disappeared.
Sirius muttered a spell and bandages came out of the tip of his wand and wrapped around Amy's bloody wrist. They sat there like that for a while, not saying anything.
And that's how they liked it.
A/N: Pretty short, pretty crappy. If you want you can tell me.
Like I said, I was delusional.
(Oh, and I've never cut myself, so I'm sorry if I got it wrong.)
Peace out bruz