Black swan

Thin like paper

[World gone mad- Bastille]

*Ophelia*

I always remember my mum telling me I was depressed. coming into my room, sitting down and telling me to go "seek help."
But I would push it off and tell her that I was just tired. Or that I was hungry.

I think deep down, I knew that i was. The summer had rocked my world on its axis. A complete 180 from what I knew my life to be. Death suddenly became like a friend, betrayal closely followed behind.
And even with Draco standing with me, helping me and being the light I needed. I still felt the looming dark fog.

I remember sitting on my phone one evening, scrolling through articles:

"10 signs that your friend is depressed"

"Online depression test"

'5 ways to help yourself out of the black pit of depression"

"Buzzfeed: my depression opened up my eyes to the beauty in the world"

Each one filled with captured images of sad people, who after the article would be smiling at the bottom, cured and happy.
The articles were stupid, pointing out that although you feel sad doesn't mean you ARE.

But I can bet with anything, that those that wrote all the articles, have never felt pain, quite like the pain that had nuzzled its self in my chest, beating along side my heart.

It had been 2 weeks, I hadn't moved from my bed but instead setting up camp, only moving to pee and then return.

The first four days I had spent calling and messaging Draco, snot induced voicemails of pain, begging him to answer and tell me why.
Messages of pain that eventually turned to anger as my mind decided to switch to an emotion that didn't soak my pillow.

And then I gave up.
My mum ventured out her room of sorrow and informed me that Dumbledore was dead, and my mind crushed the idea of Draco being a saint like a can.

Hogwarts belonged to Snape and the Carrow's, and Draco belonged to...Well, Voldemort.

I decided to go back, return to the hell that was Hogwarts and hope that what lay there was someone thing that mirrored the pain that sat in me. Perhaps he would be there? Perhaps he would see how sad and hallow I am, run back to me and beg for me to come back.

Sarah as still there, I couldn't leave her. Not after Lucas.
I wasn't even sure if she knew, or if she was aware about what had happened.

I gulped, wondering if she knew about Fae.

Fae.

I had refused to allow my mind to wander over the conversation I had with Lucas, the thought of Fae becoming a death eater seemed so alien that it sat foreign on my brain, the knowledge felt like egg shells being pressed into my temples. A strange feeling that felt oddly familiar: pain.

News spread like wildfire around the magic community. Those that stood with the dark lord where sprayed over the newspapers. Many of them leaving school to fully join, their smiles plastered all across the front page. Smiles that I had grown up with, learned to trust and like.

I had even learned to love one of them in particular.

It was the ninth day of my isolation, when the first photo Fae emerged, black and white. Stark. Soulless.

She stood in a group of other young death eaters, each of them posing in front of a burning house.
They all stood, each of them staring directly at the camera. All were smiling but Fae, who was in fact holding her arms and looking towards the floor. But seconds before the image replays its loop, she glances up and smiles, a quick flash of uncertainty before it restarts.