The Wizarding World was changing drastically, all to do with the rumoured and pending war. While every adult seemed to be gloomy, Dumbledore was the opposite. Still full of hope and confidence.
All thanks to his secret weapon. Harlow Loughty.
His p...
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Confessions come in all different extremes. Some are light and makes little change to ones life. While on the other side of the scale, life changing confessions can be admitted. Important confessions cause judgement. They cause upset. And more often than not they cause trust to vanish.
However the confession of Harlow's first night back with her friends didn't force trust away. Instead it caused heartache and anxiety. The confession changed the way Harlow viewed certain people and left her reeling in confusion.
Harlow was laid on the bed in one of the guest rooms. She was positioned over the covers on her back, her hands clasped and resting on her stomach. Jasmine had wanted to sleep with her, nestled into her side. It was something both the young and teenage girl had missed endlessly. But, Harlow couldn't allow it. She was trying her very best to be strong and put a brave face on, especially after her breakdown in front of James. Her mind struggled to calm enough for her to sleep, so she was left staring aimlessly at the ceiling above her.
Harlow wished she could claim that her mind was blank as she lay, almost lifeless, staring her existence away. But that would be a lie. She knew her life would be much simpler if that was true. Honestly, the girl feared sleep. Although she was currently battling the cruel and harming thoughts, it was much better than being stuck in yet another nightmare that was actually real. So she couldn't really class them as nightmares. More so flashbacks to the truth, her morbid truth that caused a heathy flowing river of self hatred to drown her. She debated whether or not she made the right choice. The girl was well aware that her boys were resting easier, knowing that they had her close by. Practically within arms distance in comparison to before. She was sure that they didn't fully grasp the seriousness and extremes of what she did. If they did, she firmly believed that they wouldn't be relived to be in her presence again. She was unsure of what she'd prefer. Part of her thought that she'd feel more comforted by them shunning her away. That way at least she knew that they'd be safe - from her.
The way that Harlow squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head could only be described as desperate. The more her brain filled with those thought, the more severe her anxiety got. It swirled around in her heart, aching feelings pulsating from her chest. It spread through her veins, in her blood stream, and started to affect pretty much every area of her body. The plague spread fast, shutting down the shell that she existed in. It felt like her body was slowly going numb and turning her paralysed in her spot. Surprisingly, the paralysis didn't scare her. Instead it brought her a wave of comfort, not that it lasted long. The knowledge that she was unable to move made her feel like less of a threat. She was starting to believe that is she could stay, lying in that bed, for the rest of her life, she would jump at that opportunity. Even if it meant that she'd forever have to relive her worst moments, if it ensured others safety, she would do it. Harlow would do anything.
