The Summer Land - -
"The Summer land is the great crossover. It's not good, it's not bad, it's just a place we go where there is no more pain or suffering. We wait there until it is time for our souls to return in another physical body, and then we...
TRIGGER WARNING: I'm going to be honest it doesn't get dark, but I don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable at all so this whole chapter is a warning, Morgan sort of scratches the surface of what she really feels. So, this is your warning.
That following night Morgan took a deep breath in, she was ready to face the woman, but she was of course having her doubts, would her mind go back to the pain she felt, would she remember the times the pink toad called her a liar. Shaking her head, she cringed at the thought of letting herself fall, but then again, she was still a kid, yes, she was growing day by day, but she was still a kid. Actually, she believed everyone was a kid even adults, she didn't believe people should hide who they are if they wanted to be fun and joyful then they should be, they should be allowed to act like a kid.
So, she should be allowed to have fears just like a kid.
Finally, she pushes open the door to Umbridge's office. Walking into the garish room, Umbridge grins sinisterly at Morgan. "Ah, Shelby. Sit down." She orders. Morgan barely held back the eye roll as she sat down, "you're going to be doing lines, tonight, Miss Shelby, and you'll be using this quill." Umbridge states to the girl, handing over the blasted quill. Morgan takes it into her hand, a slight shake could be seen from her left hand, that which she hid from the blasted pink toad. "You will write "I will not disobey my superiors" until I tell you to stop. Understand?"
Playing the meek willed child Umbridge believed her to be she says, "there's no ink."
"Oh... you won't need ink." The older woman states with her disgusting smile.
Morgan watches her walk away before she begins to write, instantly she feels the scratching pain, as the words "I will not disobey my superiors" carves into her soft flesh, she saw the lines written in bright red, in her blood, then the words heal over again, on her hand. She glances up to see the wicked woman smiling evilly at her, enjoying her pain.
"Problem, Shelby?" She asks.
"No," she answers back before returning to her lines. She doesn't make a peep s she writes, the words on her hand getting deeper, and deeper, and deeper. She grits her teeth holding back the pain.
It felt likes days had gone by, the pain that was burning from her hand was excruciating, she knew once she left this room, she would be in a corner crying, crying her heart out, asking why, why her. Finally, her shaky hand scratches the final line of the evening, the words on the back of her hand were not healing any longer, but bleeding profusely.
"That's enough for this evening." The woman states. "Same time, tomorrow, and we'll see if we can get the message to sink in a bit deeper." Umbridge states pinching her cheeks. Annoyedly Morgan shakes her face out of the woman's grip.
Pushing herself out of her chair she strides out with powerful steps, she would prove to that bitch she wasn't weak. No, she was not weak.
When she was finally in the halls, her steps become staggard, god was this worst then the first time, she had to remind herself, her new body didn't receive as much violence as her first life. This body was more used to being showered in love and happiness, not punches, kicks, scratches and all those other beatings she would receive.
Stopping in the middle of the hall she stares ahead of herself, that was something she hadn't thought about in a long time, the beatings, the fear she felt when she was just a child. Suddenly, she breaks into a jog, and then a run, then a sprint. No clue to where she would end up, no idea as to where she was even going... she just wanted out, she wanted to feel something other than this feeling inside her.
It was then she found herself outside, her place. Walking to the bench she sat down with little to know grace. And she stared, she stared at nothing before her, like staring into the deepest void. It was like she would take ten steps forward only to be pulled back twenty. She was being naïve, trying to numb herself to pain, it was always going to be there, no matter what, just like when she stares at Fred, remembering seeing him lying dead in the Great Hall. Seeing everyone she had known dead. She couldn't numb it away forever, it was always going to be there to hurt her, to remind her that it happened.
She tried her hardest to smile every day, but smiling hurt, so she would smirk more often than not. It was easier.
Her body begun to slump against the bench, slowly the energy in her was draining away, she wanted to leave, she wanted to hide, she wanted to...
Gasping she sat straight. "No, no, no bad thoughts, none of that." She whimpered covering her mouth with her hand. She had gone to deep, to deep to the darkness, she couldn't do that again, no she was better, she was better. "I'm better, I'm better, I'm better." She whimpered as her body shook. Tears falling down her face in streams as a sob broke through, she was breaking her image she was holding onto was breaking.
The image of a strong girl was breaking, the image of someone smiling was breaking. She was breaking.
Standing she ran, and ran, and ran until she was past the wards. She didn't know what it was, but something was pulling her away, something... no someone needed her. And she needed them.
When she was finally past the wards, she blocked herself from everyone, including Death. Feeling the pull in her stomach she apparated, landing on her knees harshly, she gasped as the wind violently whipped around her, pulling her hair every which way. Standing shakily, she held her palm outward before words slipped from her lips.
"I call to you that away was torn. Return the chosen brother of Death's chosen Lord."
The air became still, as nothing, no someone didn't appear before her, and so the world shifted, blood slipped down her nose as her arms became limp, her body beginning to sway from side to side. Her magic drained, struggling to stand she began to fall forward, but a hand caught her, turning her into their chest.
"It's about time, little sister." A voice oh so familiar whispered. Before she lost her battle and slipped into a dreamless sleep.
