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Post by Felicity Hjort on May 1, 2009 23:09:46 GMT -5
Apparently Henry didn't know many people very well. Felicity hated being tricked into anything, but he struck a chord when he threw Drew into their lovely conversation. "When he asked me there wasn't much I could tell him because I didn't know the whole of it myself," the blonde answered through gritted teeth. "And then when he begged me I couldn't either. But when I first tried telling him I broke both of our hearts." It was that day in the rain, it had started off just splendidly, but when she tried what he had asked, to tell him something, it only made her realize how hard it was for them to understand one another, and she couldn't do it. But she did tell him, after he'd given her the time she needed, she was able to. "I did tell him though, when I was ready to. Just as I promised I would when he asked."
But he had only waited a couple of weeks for her to tell him before he asked. That was when she still could hardly sleep, but if another were to ask her now, she would tell them, there was nothing to hide except Celina's secret and she wouldn't tell.
"Absurdities?" she questioned, not entirely sure what he actually meant. "And I don't care whether you would have stopped or not, you tricked me for no reason whatsoever, upset me pretty badly, and I haven't tackled anyone in quite a while. Honestly, it feels good to have done so."
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Post by Henry Lordings Jr. on May 3, 2009 16:20:15 GMT -5
"Absurdities?"
"YES!" Henry shot; everything after that word didn't even seem to penetrate his mind. "Like that I'm here collecting information? What kind of bull#$@% is that?! Or why boys feel the need to fix everything? I don't feel the need to fix anything, I feel the want to help friends, but I'd hardly call that a poor quality."
Henry was letting this get away from him, and he didn't even know it. He had been looking at what had happened that morning for so long and in so many different ways that he could hardly keep everything straight anymore. All he knew was that he had no idea why she hadn't hit him yet.
"How about you don't need to be a witch to live, huh?" Henry pressed. "You may not need to be one, but you deserve to be, and if you're entertaining ideas like that, then you most certainly are not fine!"
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Post by Felicity Hjort on May 4, 2009 0:09:11 GMT -5
Narrowed brown eyes met Henry's gaze when he swore, finding it ridiculous that anyone felt the need to use language as such. There really wasn't any need for it, he could very well have changed his wording around to say something else that meant the same thing but wasn't quite as harsh language-wise. There was nothing to help her with, and as far as she was concerned, the boy was trying to fix something that just wasn't broken. Still timid around wands, but she'd been so before it all happened as well, it was merely that she hated when someone wanted to fix her or something that happened to her. If the damage had all ready been done, then they couldn't change what had happened, fix it, or anything. They needed to let her figure things out on her own, no matter how much time it took.
"Deserve to be one?" she asked incredulously. "What have I done to deserve to be a witch? My own father isn't too keen on that fact, nor was he about mum, he didn't even want me to come here because of it." While she often tried to comfort Drew about her father's prejudices, she knew deep down that he didn't like it at all. The fact that he was a wizard, that she was a witch, he couldn't really stand it. All his plans for her were washed away the day that owl arrived and he'd done all he could to keep her home but even her mum thought it was best to allow her to finally attend Hogwarts. It was only him who fought the idea. It was absurd to him. "And yes, I am quite fine. There was nothing wrong with my life before I came here. I didn't have to worry about hurting anyone's feelings," like she had with Mike, Lucas, and a few others. "I wasn't put under a spell by my best friend," which had been lots of fun with Celina. "No one was going to torture me," like that January. "My father hadn't detested anything about me," at least until she received that letter. "And I wasn't away from my mum when she needs me most," having to battle the cancer without her there. Home was looking better every minute.
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Post by Henry Lordings Jr. on May 7, 2009 20:35:44 GMT -5
"Oh, boo-hoo!" Henry mocked harshly, looking up at her with fiery eyes. "Plenty of people live in terrible circumstances in this world, don't go thinking you got the short end of the stick because you have a gift that relatively few people are even blessed with an awareness of!
"You don't need help? Fine, I won't try anymore. I screwed up, should have realized that you didn't need the help. I should have just gone around like nothing had happened that morning. It's obvious to me, now, that you're just fine even though your friend stabbed you in the back, and your dad hates that you're a witch, and you can't help your mom, and you were tortured, and you're freaked out whenever someone draws a wand and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, you're a right model of happiness, you are. I, on the other hand, don't care anymore. I tried, and you hate me for it. That's fine, I just don't want to have to indulge your self-pity anymore. Why should I care when you don't?"
That was possibly the most heartless thing you have ever said to anyone...
The tiny voice that always invaded his consciousness when he did something that he knew was wrong seemed to loom out from nothingness. It was a voice that was otherwise unfamiliar to him, but it always managed to thoroughly mess with him.
Shut it. He thought angrily, the tiny voice seeming to bore relentlessly into his conscience. I'm done.
Don't do it... Said the voice calmly and matter-of-factly. You will regret it.
"You think your life would be better without being a witch? Leave."
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Post by Felicity Hjort on May 7, 2009 21:54:27 GMT -5
There were plenty of people worse off than she, knowing she had a rather pleasant life, but she didn't see how being a witch was a blessing. If anything, to her, it was a curse. The only good things that came of it was meeting the people she cared about, other than that, everything about it was terrible. There was nothing to help, everything had all ready passed and she was working on getting over things on her own, with time. No one else could help her, Drew had tried, Celina had been there for her, but otherwise she was alone on the territory of figuring it all out. The fact was, she didn't want anyone's help, she didn't need it. If they'd just leave her alone, she would heal.
As he continued to speak, she wished he'd just stop, feeling the stinging sensations in her eyes of the tell tale tears that were on their way. Celina hadn't gone behind her back, no matter what others thought, she had every bit of reason to do what she did and Felicity didn't blame her one bit knowing she likely would've done the same in that situation. Her family meant everything to her. But she didn't hate him. Maybe for the moment, for what he did, but not overall. Henry was usually a nice boy, someone she had thought on a few occasions she'd get along with well, but at the moment not so much.
When he finished, Felicity closed her eyes, and felt those tears start to fall along her cheeks. He didn't know anything. Without saying a word, she finally stood up from him, loomed over for a second unable to believe someone was finally telling her what she'd known along, that she shouldn't be there. The blonde turned, paused for a moment as she reached to grab one item from the ground that didn't belong to her and left. He wanted her to leave? Just like Celina had left without a word of notice, she would.
"Fine."
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Post by Henry Lordings Jr. on May 9, 2009 1:19:33 GMT -5
Henry's expression had lightened somewhat when he realized what he had said. An anger had stolen over him that was quite beyond his ability to explain. It wasn't in his nature to become so enraged about such a thing. A single word was all it took to turn that confused expression into one of horror. What had he said? What had he done? It was like the details of the last few moments were slipping away as quickly as he grasped for them. His eyes remained fixated upon the spot where Felicity's face had been moments before as though willing time to stop, perhaps even reverse itself so that he could change it. Somewhere within him he was aware of the things going on around him, but his conscious mind was frozen into a state of inaction to match that of his body. After what seemed a long time, he looked around. Felicity had long since vanished. He could think of nothing else to do but return to the school...
It was like a fog of war had enveloped him. He was completely oblivious to everything around him. People called his name, though he did not hear. Things crossed his path, though he did not see. He walked a familiar path, but was unaware that he was doing so. He simply found himself standing in his common room some time after leaving the lake's side, confused as to what to do now.
Golden and crimson hangings and sheets adorned the four poster which had been his for years. He looked upon them blankly for a good long while, apparently unconcerned by the fact that they were little more than a red blur before him. Eventually, however, he became aware of the fact that he could not see that which was before him well, and stooped down, opening his trunk. From it's depths, he extracted a small, rectangular, stained wood box inlaid with ornate patterns. He hadn't so much as looked at the box in years. Now, however, he opened it and stared at the contents as though he had no trouble whatsoever taking in the details of the aged half-moon frame or flawless lenses of the spectacles held within.
As he put the spectacles on, everything around him came into sharp focus. It was at that moment that the most horrible feeling he had ever experienced crashed in upon him. He couldn't rationalize it. He felt bad about what he had said to Felicity, but that wasn't the core of it. Something else was eating away at him, something far more toxic than his guilt concerning a friend...
He stood up and, before he could stop himself, he drove his right hand, balled into a fist, into the hard wood of the closest of his bed's four posts with a cry of anger. He turned sideways slightly, fell against the post, and slid down to it's base, an expression which wasn't an effective translation of even a tenth of his misery affixed to his face. He let his head fall back against the post and stared up at the ceiling. He felt like he was hyperventilating, but his breathing was fine. His heart felt like it was on the verge of exploding, his mind was spinning with the emotional pain of it all, and every muscle in his body seemed to be extremely hot and unbelievable cold at the same time. His inexplicable rage had turned to a vicious and unbearable sorrow.
The dormitory was empty...no one could stop him. He wanted the pain to end. He needed the pain to end. He thrust his hand into his jacket and extracted his wand, jabbing the tip into the underside of his chin. It was the only way he knew of to end it...
"A-avada Ke...Ke..."
Killing yourself isn't going change anything.
"Avada-a..."
You know I'm right.
He had never been so intent upon any action in his entire existence. He knew that, if he cast the spell, it would work perfectly. If the trick to an unforgivable curse was the willpower behind it, then he would certainly be able to cast an exemplary killing curse with ease.
All things heal themselves in time...
How long would he have to wait for this pain to pass? A week? A month? A year? A decade? He couldn't even stand to feel this way for the better part of an ten minutes...
You know you could do it... That voice...always screwing with him... Their new kid would eventually take your place. They may not forget you, but one day you just won't be in their thoughts anymore...it'll be as though they never had a son called Henry. It won't fix anything with Felicity...
"Avada..."
It probably won't even make the pain stop. You believe in an afterlife, after all...who says you won't be stuck with it there too?
The wand clattered to the floor.
"...Kedavra"
What was it you said? 'Don't go thinking that you got the short end of the stick...'?
As the wand slipped from his grasp and the word which would have been his end was uttered a moment too late, his head fell forward into his hands. Tears streaked down his cheeks, one after another. His breathing was erratic at best as he sobbed. This inexplicably awful feeling filled every fiber of his being. He had never felt this bad before.
"Why...?" Henry asked the empty room desperately. "Why can't I do it?"
Don't you think a better question would be: 'Why do you feel this way?'...?
"I..." he could barely speak. "I ju-just want t-to die..."
Ha ha ha! C'mon, cheer up, champ, you can always kill yourself after the nurse fixes your hand...
It was like a switch flicked on in his mind and everything physical came rushing in upon him. All the emotional elements were joined, suddenly and mercilessly, by the physical pains and discomforts brought on by that emotional state and his lashing out against the bed post. The strike he had directed at the bed post had been strong enough to leave him with a half dozen broken bones in the right hand. He just sat there, clutching his right hand in his left and staring at the wand he had dropped, watching as tears fell to the ground around it or else caught upon the lenses of the spectacles he now wore. The day was fine enough to ensure that no one would bother him for a great many hours, and he preferred it that way. He didn't want to have to face anyone else. They had never attempted a killing curse. All he cursed, however, was the fact that he couldn't use one on himself...
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