Author's Note: It’s rather short but I put a lot of my emotions here… I’m sure anyone can really relate to this…
Oh, and another thing, I don not own Harry Potter (too bad!) because all of these belongs to Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Rowling, whom I've idolized. =]
Warning: Suicide is inside here.
Lingering Loneliness
I sat on my desk; sleep unable to visit me and slumber unable to kiss my eyes…
I touch the serpentine dagger beside my journal. I lifted the eagle quill and started to write…
As I bore myself to sleep, I wrote on and on about the drabbles my sane mind have struggled to express from deep within. I let my dutiful hand stroke further as it is the only way to relive everything.
Everything, just everything.
From simple hopes and dreams, all the memories, the sadness, loneliness, the sufferings and the tortures this cruel journey life has thrown upon me.
What? You think a Malfoy can’t hope and dream?
It is the hopelessness of being completely unarmed and vulnerably alone.
And I hate it. I loathe my father for it. He was one of the main reasons I was like this.
With no such companion, no such special friend to confide to, hold on to, cry to, share dreams and secrets to or just to spend time with.
It was always Draco this and Draco that. That’s my father.
And then, not that I do not have any special someone…
I do have one… and only one… Ginevra… Ginny.
Yes, my little weaslette. She was my confidant.
No one knew. We hid our relationship to ourselves.
Then, back at my sixth year… She was gone.
Torn from the living world and into the dead.
And guess who’s fault it is? Oh yes, my father. He and those bastards.
He knew of course, me and my Red’s hidden relationship, for some reason, I do not know. And I have suffered pain beyond pain. He even let that Lord of his to torture me with curses even Crucio can shudder to think. Can you believe that? His own son! But, after all, he just wants power. No Less.
So, after Red was… gone… I delved back into the darkness. I let myself journey into the depths of my numb heart, whose beat was getting slower… and slower… and slower. Until then that time comes that I had just die and tarry away to the darkness. This feeling inside me, the total emptiness that I have known ever since I don’t remember when haunts me.
It scares me beyond my wits.
It sadistically teases me into acting like such a rash person that I am. But, what was I to do? How can I keep myself on moving on? If, now I know, without anyone, I had nothing, I am a nobody. Just not important. I just lingered for a while.
Some stroke of genius claimed it and I had an idea. The greatest idea I could have thought! I will no longer be just wishing. For I will finally have it again.
I will be with my Ginny again! Oh, how I love her! I have always wished for her. Always wishing to be cuddled or cared and loved again by my Ginny… Always wishing to be shrouded away by the primary thing it has originally been…
Lingering Loneliness…
After that writing, I dropped my quill. Now, I have decided. Without her, I was broken. I had no purpose. I know, she’s waiting for me to the other world.
So, I pick up my dagger.
A treasure I have always cherished from my Ginny, as because she knows I like swords and daggers.
Soon, Ginny, I will be with you.
You will no longer wait.
Let me be with you up there… Goodbye to this world of hatred.
And with that, the dagger automatically dug through my chest. I heaved and the pain was unbearable…
And there it was… blood… Yes.
I’m near; I’ll be with you again Ginny… I stabbed my self over and over again. I saw my hands shining with my own blood.
Ginny… this is for you…
I slit my other pulse at my left hand… there was blood, everywhere.
Before darkness claimed over me, I took the picture of Ginny she gave me the day before she died…. I saw her, her moving picture horrified at my sight. She was crying. She tried to get to me, to help me save myself. But she can’t. She’s not really here.
I had the smile on my face that I wore when I was with her. She would love that. I clutched the picture tightly and held it against my heart, which was beginning to beat slower… and slower… and slower… until…
It stopped.
Here I come, Ginny.
With one last breath…
“Ginny…”
I close my eyes. Stumbled out of my chair.
I was gone.
Death is but the next great adventure! “Albus Dumbledore