UNBREAK | D.M (UNRAVEL BOOK 5)

[ 08 ]

Staring out of the massive window panes that had been opened, the wind gusted into the room. The snow-coloured hair fluttered along as Aine blinked at the gentle breeze. Memories of the moment when she saw her father in the dream were getting fuzzy in her mind and as soon as she had awakened, the recollections blurred as though it was meant to be forgotten and buried deep inside her bones. If there was one thing Aine had recalled from that day was that there was no need to be afraid anymore, she knew her father was with her. Though he may not walk around physically in their world anymore, just like Sirius or Cedric. They will always remain in her heart.

No fear, set it free. 

The words of her father resounded inside her mind that she had kept close. It was the last piece of advice Elliot had left her, and it had given her the strength to move on. She could still feel the pang of guilt lurking by her side but she had come to terms that there was no use crying over what was already done. All she could do now was to live her life to the fullest, it was what her father would have wanted for her in the first place. In fact, the sadness inside of her had seemed to be overpowered by the wrath. She was even more vengeful than ever upon opening her eyes once more. 

Despite being given the chance to live again every time she wakes up from sleep, Aine believed herself to be cursed. Countless times she had been pushed over the edge during endless tortures, inflicted with pain and anguish that both cut deeper than any slash through her skin. Times when the girl had wished to simply die so that she could be rid of the misery of being tormented, watching the people whom she hold dear suffer tragic deaths and the heartbreak she had felt to go on living without them. But the gods had wanted her to live, and each time she was on the brink of Death, she had prevailed stronger. 

Was it a miracle or a mistake that she had ended up surviving? Aine could only wonder how long it will take before such blessings run out and she would, like any other living creature cave into Death.

Perhaps it was a punishment... 

That she had been doomed by the gods who had befallen the girl to live through the sorrows and this cruel fate. Only time can tell.

Aine felt the seething pain crawling up to her arm again, it had always come so suddenly. She gripped the sheets on the bed, biting down a wince. It was as if her whole arm had been engulfed with flames, burning into her flesh. She narrowed her pupils at the heinous mark that Voldemort had branded her, recalling flashes of how she had attained the Dark Mark. 

All she could make of in her woolly memories was that after being knocked out unconscious, there was a tremendous pain that followed. She remembered going berserk when those monsters had forced her to shut her mouth when Voldemort had stabbed her arm with his wand, infusing her with the skull markings. The way the black ink seeps into her system like poison. 

She remembered lashing out at those who had restrained her, the powers she had acquired were still unstable after all and she had little to no control over them. And before she had yielded to the tenebrosity, she remembered how every Deatheater who had her seized, took a shot to get back at her as soon as their master had left the scene. A childish and petty move on their part. They had attacked her physically and mentally, battering up the little lady knowing that someone on their side would fix her up anyways. Where else would they get another chance to do so?

Sure enough, she had been completely mended. The cuts and bruises on her body healed within two days as she woke, the soreness in her muscles took longer but had nevertheless subsided. In spite of all her wounds being pretty much settled and stitched back, Aine's heart remained tainted and darker than ever. There was no way she could return to the girl she was before all this mess had started, after everything that she had been put through.