good things fall apart • sirius black

These things aren't easy

Ellie's world had always been filled with good. And that was a privilege, she knew that.

Everything in her life had been sculptured by the Gods and blessed to bring only happiness. The sun put golden sparkles in her veins, because it saw her pure enough to handle its power - the perfect being to radiate such warmth. She'd always been ethereal and angel-like, so was deemed the fit candidate to live an undisturbed life. Nothing touched her, as if there were invisible walls up that blocked out any evil. There hadn't been one thing that managed to taint her life's light, for her fire raged so violently that no darkness stood a chance.

The beautiful girl's childhood had been idyllic. Days filled with sunshine and adventures, all encased carefully in bubble wrap to ensure no harm ever came to her. And if somehow, it did, someone was always there to kiss her wounds better.

She didn't know what it meant to have to fend for herself. Yes, Ellie Gryffin was fiercely independent, she'd been taught to be. But if there was ever a waver in her unmatchable confidence, someone was there to console her. There hadn't been a need to worry for wanting things, for her family came with much wealth. A wealth that provided everything she needed in life. It hadn't made her gluttonous and she understood the value of objects beyond their materialistic wealth, but she hadn't ever truly wanted for anything either.

Everything she knew was carefully lay out for her, regardless of how spontaneous or impulsive she became, because somehow, the universe decided Ellie was the one it would favour the most.

Her scars were from tripping over, because she'd been laughing too hard and not noticed where she was putting her feet. Her scars were from misjudging the sturdiness of tree branches. Her scars were from the thorns of flowers. Nothing anywhere near the scars of her friends. No match for the ones permanently embedded in Remus' skin, reminders of the horrors he endured every month. No match for the imprints on Sirius' brain, tortuous flashbacks to what happened behind the walls of his family home.

Her scars encompassed what it meant to be free. Their scars encompassed what it meant to be permanently trapped in your mind.

Perhaps sheltered or mollycoddled. Maybe just lucky. Yet somehow Ellie Gryffin found herself living a life that had never called for her to understand to true meaning of loss. She'd never had anger or malice in her life - apart of a strong family unit, with a close circle of friends who were trustworthy, and no real danger crossing her path. It could even just be coincidence that she'd never had to deal with an emotionally traumatic event. That the foundations she had were so unshakable, that even if something had hit, it wouldn't have had an impact.

It had left her naive, unknowledgeable of the horrors that everyone else faced, and completely unaware of how the world really worked. Life outside her bubble wasn't encrusted with golden sparkles from the sun and it definitely wasn't idyllic either. She'd come across evils in the friends she'd made and others she'd spoken to, but never had it really touched her. Never had it impacted her in a way the bubble wrap couldn't protect from.

Not until now at least.

Her marble had been cracked and her gold tarnished. Everything she thought she knew, crumbling under the weight of truth. No longer did the Gods want to put in their effort sculpturing her blessed life. She wasn't the favourite of the universe anymore and it had decided she needed to learn what everyone else had done before her. Ellie couldn't stay sheltered forever and the time had come for her to get a few real scars to carry with her.

The beautiful girl was now a pale imitation of what she once was. No golden sparkles left, no unmatchable confidence, no losing herself in bliss. The chaos she once revelled in was now a heavy burden she needed to try and make sense of. It was as if someone had told her to complete a jigsaw, but not given her all the pieces, nor a reference to go off and now she was left with a half complete picture. A half complete picture of who she thought her whole self was. Now though, she could see there were things missing. Gaps in her emotional range that didn't cater for huge losses. Sections missing in her instructions on how to rebuild after life dealt you an unlucky hand. Coping mechanisms that didn't involve trusting the universe knew what it was doing.