"We're not who we used to be, we're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me."
If there was one thing Lurapithia Dahlis was desperate for, it was an escape. Whether it was from the stressful and painful relationship with her parents, or f...
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"It wasn't until after I poured the second cup, that I realized I was alone."
♦♦♦
Once again, tha manor was silent. This reoccurring quiet made Lurapithia angry. The fact that her insides were screaming and her back was aching, made it seem like the walls should be screaming as well. The fact that the disgusting old place didn't have to suffer at all. The utterly unbearable thing in the manor was not the screams, it was the silence. Because silence always meant that the victim had either passed on, or had become to weak to make a sound.
The victim, in this case, was Lurapithia.
To say she was done fighting would be an understatement. She was slumped against her bedroom wall, trying her absolute hardest not to move. Any movement might rip the stitches, and that was the last thing she wanted to do. Her wounds had been hastily tended to by her mother, then she had been sent to her room. However, her mother was not a healer. She hadn't said the charm correctly, so the stitches were quite sloppy and loose. Blood could be seen oozing slowly from the lashes, but not at a quick enough rate to kill her. Lu made a smart decision and sat completely still until the scabbing process began.
Tomorrow. That was when she would board the train to Hogwarts. All she needed to do was wait through a single ride on the Hogwart's Express, a dinner held for their return, and a treck to the Gryffindor common room before she could sit in her lonely room. She could call in sick and lay there for all the time she needed.
All she had to do was get past Remus.
Remus.
He couldn't see her like this. He couldn't see her pasty skin, her bloody hands, her tear stained face. He would know then, that she had been lying to him ever since the beginning. Remus, the only source of innocence in her life, couldn't possibly know about this. She needed to protect him.
But through the innocence she had pinned on him, she remembered that he had secrets as well. He was a werewolf. Of course this news was rattling, but she knew that no matter what she did, she could never be scared of him. She couldn't imagine the pain only a single transformation caused him, so she decided that he couldn't want her to talk to him about it.
She felt an overwhelming feeling of apathy. Like everything was somehow frozen in time, like nothing mattered and everything mattered at the same time. She felt a drop of blood slowly slip down her back. All she could do was sit and stare at the ashy ceiling.
Her eyes travelled over the ivory panel walls. The same walls every time she returned. It was like nothing every changed there. As if the entire world had moved on from an era, and the house had been left behind. Everything in the house was ancient, everything in the house screamed to be replaced.
