Pride

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"We're not friends.... we're strangers with memories."-Jennifer Lewis

I watched Jay go, a protest hanging on the end of my tongue. I turned away from the window, tears threatening to make an appearance. Sniffling, I pushed them back, hardening my face.

I will not cry.

I will not cry.

I needed pain.

Pain to keep away the hurt from having my heart ripped out, twice; and dangled in front of me.

Stumbling over to my dresser, I opened the same drawer that my spell book had been in. Neatly folded up was a once beautiful pocketknife. I had found it in the dump with the initials KB on it.

It was mine now.

I sat there, examining the gleaming blade, before pressing it gently against my wrist. Blood welled slightly as I pressed harder.

I weakly smiled through the hurt.

This.

This is something I could control.

I could control if it hurt me or not.

Blindly, I ran it across my old scars; scars that hadn't been touched in years. Blood made a pattern as it seeped out of my wounds. New cuts formed next to old and my arm felt weak.

Sliding backwards down my wall, I chucked my knife across the room, trying to get it as far away from me as possible. I grasped my arm, pain exploding in my head as blood dripped through my fingers. Staring blankly at it, I slowly became memorized and gently dipped a finger in the small puddle forming on the floor. Turning toward my wall, I wrote my name.

MAL.

I examined it carefully, tracing the letters for what seemed like hours. Time slowed down as I continuously traced the letters back and forth.

Mal.

Short for Maleficent.

I snorted. Only my mother would name her daughter after herself.

Her excuse was that she hoped it'd make me strong.

Apparently she was wrong. Glancing at my wrist, I saw the evidence.

A single tear dripped down my cheek as the sun slowly rose, its bland light shining dully in through my window. I needed to be strong.

I needed to survive.

I glanced down at my hidden stomach. "For them." I said caressing the spot where I had just felt a kick. I giggled slightly as I felt a swift kick twice more. Firecrackers,that's what they're  gonna be. I sighed, slowing the bleeding from my arm and struggled up, leaning against my bedpost. I had to catch my breath before limping over to my closet. I took a sharp breath as the memories from last night flooded my mind once again.

Harry had hidden in this closet.

Pushing the emotions to the back of my head, I pulled out the turtleneck sweater that Evie had made me last year. I smirked as I pulled it out.

It was a deep purple with green woven in between some of the strands. I personally liked leather but I couldn't say no to Evie. It made her happy.

And I liked making my friends happy.

A knock sounded on my door as breakfast was announced.

"Your Majesty requests to have you at the dinner table for breakfast this morning." One of her men proclaimed in a somewhat bored tone. I pulled the sleeves down on my shirt, trying to ignore the eyeball staring at me hungrily through the peephole, before pushing the door open.

UnlovedWaar verhalen tot leven komen. Ontdek het nu