Shut Up, Padfoot!

19

"And you did this.. for what?" Lily scowled.

"I- uh.." I stammered.

"You put all of these candles in our room... for what?" she repeated.

I glanced around the room, candles everywhere. Candles sat atop her nightstand, windowsill, luggage, anywhere that I could. Scratching my head, I looked back at her.

She leaned down, her fingers curling around the handle of a candlestick. She brought it to her face and blew the flame out.

"It's a congratulations present!" I blurted out.

"A what? For who?" she questioned.

"Me!!" I squeal.

Her brow rose, looking around the room again. She set the candle back down and laid on her bed, too tired to bother about the candles anymore.

Her back rest upon the backboard and she tucked a pillow in her lap. I sat at the end of her bed and scratched lightly at the duvet.

"Why?" she curtly asked.

"I'm dying!" I exclaim.

She sat upright, her eyes wide as saucers. Her pretty hair fell over her shoulder and her skin paled.

"What? Are you serious?" she incredulously interrogated.

"And I'm dating Sirius!" I continued.

"Hold on, you're dating Sirius?" she yelled.

"Yes, and I'm dying!"

"Wait what?" she curtly responded.

Falling back on the edge of my bed, I awaited her further reaction. I crossed my ankles and laid my hands in my lap. She breathed in and looked around at the candles in the room.

Her eyes welled up with tears and I'm surprised she hasn't asked me if I was joking. Then again, I try not to joke about death too lightly. Key word: try.

She tucked her hair behind her ear and stared at one spot in her bed.

"Why? How long do you have?" she numbly asked.

"Three to five years. You already know what a strega mortale is.." I told.

"You're a strega mortale," she repeated.

"Yeah. And there's a guy called Tom Riddle killing me from inside," I explained quietly.

A tear fell down her blank face. Her fist loosened and her whole body relaxed in a numbed state. She didn't need me to explain too much. She already knew most of the details and I have a feeling she doesn't want to hear the rest of it.

"And I think I killed someone," I softly stated.

Her eyes flickered to mine, her constant dead expression sent a shiver down my spine.

"I doubt it," she replied.

Laughing humorlessly, I lowered my eyes from her. She stayed in her bed and waited for an explanation or something. Just nothing to do with the strega mortale situation.

"The lady that put the spell on me died of a heart attack when I mentioned Tom Riddle," I shortly said.

I cut it from there. I'm not going to explain anymore because she already knows what's going on inside my head. She probably assumed the exact situation that turned out when I told her.

Lily's smart like that. She can predict what's going to happened and what did happen. She knows the worst and best possibilities. She knows me in and out so she already assumes the thoughts going on inside my head.

"What are you going to do?" she barely whispered out.

"Can't do anything," I said.

She grew winded and she wiped at her face with the back of her wrist. She lowered her eyes and tears still fell down her cheeks. She played with the ends of the pillow sewing and cried on her bed.

Swallowing the pain in my throat, I reached to the lit candle in my bed. With my pointer finger, I dipped it into the flame. Didn't hurt. The flame just blew out and the smoke engulfed my finger.

"I didn't light these candles with my wand, you hear?" I resumed.

She nodded, sniffling. Lily didn't reply and just listened to me. The distance between us was astounding but I know I can't comfort her if I closed the length.

She needs to cry on her own because it fuels our friendship and all I want is for her to forget me easily when I die. She doesn't want to be comforted right now anyways. She wants to cry by herself but wants me in the room.

Life catches up too easily for some of us.

Especially when you know about it.

Those around us deserve to hear the outcome and the rising death. When yhr end is nipping at your toes while you scramble to run from it, you tend to remember a lot of things.

You'd remember that time goes by quicker than you think. Friendships and relationships will either break or thrive under the chase away from death.

And moments become cherished. Every minute is a factor of, should I keep this with me until I die? Should I cry right now or should I go out there and live my life?

There are two people in this world.

Those that revel in the pain and remain in the tears of their own making. Those that endure the pain and stay in bed. Stay in bed to recover from the sadness and lack of energy.

And those that forget and move on. They don't let the pain overtake them. When something hurts, they reevaluate and get out there so they can relive. Just so they don't make the same mistake again in order to avoid any falter of the life they desire, they reevaluate. Rather than lay in bed with the overthought plaguing their mind.

I have to choose which person I want to be.

I always thought I was a survivor since the night I was brought home. Since the night my family was killed and I remained alive.

But now that I know I can't survive in the end, I need to make peace. This life is too precious to give up on. There's a reason I'm here, despite the length of my stay.

"Want me to blow the candles out?" I offered.

"Yes."

Silently, I fell back on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. The marker etchings of the lingering friendships from past Gryffindor girls stayed in my view.

Then the little 'year of 1960' and 'year of 1957' and so on all disappeared as the candlelights went out.

-lana
sorry i havent been updating recently! ive hit a huge writers block