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This was totally worth buying. I officially feel like a witch and I might be crying of happiness...
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With a sigh, I placed the box on the table, making Fred and George look at me from where they were sitting in the living room. I was tired. Absolutely exhausted. Badger and Benjamin left for America this morning and I just got back to the flat after spending a few days in the house.
I inherited all my mother's sketchbooks, her diaries, some of her clothes. I also inherited her wand and her old schoolbooks from when she went to Hogwarts. It was all in the box I just put down. Everything I had inherited was in there. I turned around, leaning against the table with my hands gripping the edges. My eyes were closed and I saw her. Her face, her beautiful smile, her eyes. I looked nothing like her but I so wish that I did. Instead of having her blonde hair and blue eyes, I had my fathers brown curls, brown eyes. I even had my freckles from him. Sebastian was lucky to have his blue eyes from mum and then there's Ben. He's a true copy of her. Looks exactly like her, blonde hair, blue eyes, the same lips and nose.
"I need a drink." I commented. When I opened my eyes again, I saw Deanne two. She was standing by the bookshelves in the living room while George and Fred now stood up. All six eyes were focused on me. I pushed myself away from the table and walked to the cabinet where we normally had our alcohol, though it was empty. "Where's our whisky?"
I turned around to see George who had entered the kitchen. At the same time, Fred and Deanne left the flat and walked down into the shop.
"We always have at least two bottles of firewhisky." I said, looking at my husband who currently leaned back against the table.
"We decided it was best if we didn't." he said. "We gave the bottles to Bill and Fleur."
"Why?"
"Because you always seek to get drunk to numb your emotions." he said. "It's not healthy and I do not want to watch you shut your feelings out. It's only going to break you."
"I'm already..."
"You're not broken." he interrupted me. "You just lost your mother so it feels like you are. You need to let yourself grieve properly. You can't do that by drowning it with alcohol."
"I can't shut my feelings out." I told him. "Because I don't have any. Do you know how many times I've cried over her? Three times, George. I've cried three times. I'm numb. What does that make me? I'm a horrible daughter."
"You're not." he assured me. "Everyones grief is different. It takes time and it's normal to feel numb. You lost a person you grew up with, someone you expected to have for a much longer time and you lost her in a very brutal way. You are allowed to feel whatever you do. No one will blame you for it."
I nodded slightly, knowing he was right. After a moment of just looking at him, I pushed myself away from the counter. I walked over to him, wrapping my arms around his torso, my head resting against his chest.
"You're gonna get through this." he said, his own arms closing around me. "You're stronger than you know."
I closed my eyes as I hugged him tighter, taking in the feeling of comfort I got from his embrace. I was going to say it until the day I died... I was so lucky to have him. I was lucky to have all the people in my life and I was lucky to have had my mum for eighteen, almost nineteen years.
I found it weird. Weird to think that when's someone died, they're just gone. You never see them again, they're buried beneath the ground. They're now apart of the ground. They don't walk the surface of the earth anymore. Their face has stopped existing. Their voice, personality. All gone. The only way you'll see them again is in your memories, your dreams or in the afterlife if such thing exists. I felt powerless. I had no control over death or life. I couldn't be in control of who stayed in my life or who died because of death. As I said, I was powerless...
