• TWENTY •

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Holland threw the bottle in anger. A loud, glass breaking sound echoed in the corridor. All the portraits and passing ghouls coming to a halt from their current activity, taking a peak at the girl to see what was going on. Holland couldn't care less, ignoring the attention as she visibly seethed, almost as if hot air was blowing out of all her facial orifices. She felt hot all over, her heart sinking lower and lower, feeling as if it could exit through her rear. She knew it was all too good to be true. Everything began to make sense. He'd been doing so good, visibly falling out of bewitchment, then acting so odd and trampling all over Holland like a fool out of nowhere again. It was no wonder he managed to find the audacity to confess his so-called feelings to Holland. The git probably couldn't lie without feeling guilty, needing the aid of the bloody amorentia to let him believe he actually has feelings for the girl. Why go this far? Holland thought the two really had a good friendship going on, was that not enough for him to let go of his lifelong dream of finally winning against Holland? Did he want to make her think that they'd end up together, even though they wouldn't? Holland's mind was racing, her vision spinning. She felt beads of sweat form on her forehead, she knew she had to sit down. Holland fell to her knees in misery, head swaying as she'd lost all control to keep it still. She wondered if she'd still be with George, had she found this out sooner. She shook her head, coming to a halt when her vision became even blurrier and nauseating at the movement. She tried to calm herself down. Was this karma? Should she have never broken up with George? No. She made that decision, and she wasn't going to let herself believe she'd only broken up with George only because of Cedric, just to come crawling back to him once Cedric wasn't available anymore. Even then, how could Cedric do that to her?

She began to breathe in and out. Alright, Holly. The love of your life may have not been the one for you, after all, and Cedric may not be the one for you, either. But that's alright, right? You're still alive, right? It all felt so unfair. Maybe she deserved to stay alone. Holland was slowly losing her mind, her entire body now on the floor, head making a loud and solid sound as it hit the floor. Her head was throbbing but nothing could compare to how she felt on the inside, Holland was now thrashing around, all limbs out of control as she didn't know how else to let all her pain out while trying her best to keep her wails to herself. Her chest felt a sharp pain, as if she'd been cut open then gutted to complete hollowness. Holland rued everything she's said and done for the past four years. Was this all the karma she never received for being a brat to Cedric? It made sense, Holland wasn't the perfect witch, after all.

    "Miss Avery, is you alright? Pokey thinks miss should sit down." The house elf frantically said from above her, the girl's eyes closed as she gave a curt nod. Despite being on a stone cold, and very much hard ground, Holland felt as if she were floating, probably due to the hard blow to her head from when she fell. If Holland was fainting, she no longer cared. She preferred it, even. She no longer wanted to be conscious, instead to wanting to forever be laying on the ground, praying to whoever could hear for it would devour her if she stayed on it long enough.

    "Please, Miss Avery. Pokey is worried. Pokey insists!" The girl whined, sounded like she'd been weeping, herself. She tried her best to hold on to Holland as much as she could, grabbing onto her torso, and with all her strength to try and stand her up. Holland had no energy to move, her weight making it impossible for Hokey to lift her. The annoying, struggling movement making her head pang harder in pain, Holland wanted to swat the elf away, but deciding against it as it was rude and energy consuming. The house elf lets her go in defeat, leaving a glass of water on the windowsill, and giving Holland one last look of worry before retreating to the kitchens. Holland lays there, still, and in thought. Groggy, but still awake. After about 10 minutes, she realizes that Cedric's bag was there, meaning he could come back any moment now.

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