Post by momo on Feb 20, 2012 20:31:05 GMT -5
"What is wrong with me?" Rhye pulled his knees to his chest, sitting on the staircase, thoughts colliding like train crashes in his head. He was getting a big headache, and the 'Incendio' incident replayed again and again in his head. He couldn't think straight. Rhye looked up for a moment, nobody in sight. There it went again- the words echoed around, mocking him. He put his hands on his head, tightening his grip and shaking forwards and backwards. He wasn't going to be able to show his face to Ophelia.
She hates you. She hates you just like your parents hate you. His conscious spat at him. That's why they sent you here. They weren't proud of you. You're just a mudblood, what makes you think you could've survived here. Rhye's eyes closed tight, the voices in his head growing louder. He let out a groan, standing up and pacing on the step, hunching over, his hands on the railing. They didn't ease up- they got meaner. Your parents never wanted a kid. They were happy alone. You were a freak to them, an accident.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he slumped down against the stairwell's back, his hands covering his face, knees curled up against his chest. "What have I done?" He muffled out, his voice shaking. The voices were screaming now, terrible screams. He shook his head back and fourth. "I can't do anything right. I ruined her Valentine's day. I ruined my chances of ever being with her." He couldn't hold his head up. The tears were about to overflow over his eyelids, his nose was a deep shade of red like his cheeks.
The Ravenclaw resorted to flashbacks of him at home, in France. They were happy memories. Memories of his Mum teaching him to bake, speaking only French. There were memories of his Dad sitting at home building model trains with him, and setting them off on the track. He remembered having his best friends over, playing chase around his Dad's orchard.
Specifically, he remembered being really sick. His body soon took the cold-like symptoms like in his vision and he turned a sickly pale, his muscles became weak. He remembered his Mum bringing him a glass of water, telling him he couldn't make it on the field trip to the Arc D'Triumph today, because he was sick and running a fever. His memory shifted to him waiting by his window for his friends to get dropped off at his house- they lived right next door. But they never showed.
'Rhye, I have something to tell you.' His mom spoke quietly to him in his head. She told him that his friends had been hurt really bad in a bus accident on their way home and that she wasn't sure if they would be able to come over. He remembered crying into her dress, her holding him and singing to him the same song he sang to Ophelia. His friends died that night in the hospital, he couldn't handle it. He didn't talk for the next two weeks. Rhye was scarred.
Snapping back, Rhye bunched his fists up against his knees and hugged tighter, his muscles rippling under his clothes. Its your fault they died. That should have been you on that field trip, you filthy mudblood. His head whispered to him, the over-due tears streaming down his face as he rocked back and fourth on the sixth step up.
She hates you. She hates you just like your parents hate you. His conscious spat at him. That's why they sent you here. They weren't proud of you. You're just a mudblood, what makes you think you could've survived here. Rhye's eyes closed tight, the voices in his head growing louder. He let out a groan, standing up and pacing on the step, hunching over, his hands on the railing. They didn't ease up- they got meaner. Your parents never wanted a kid. They were happy alone. You were a freak to them, an accident.
Tears welled up in his eyes as he slumped down against the stairwell's back, his hands covering his face, knees curled up against his chest. "What have I done?" He muffled out, his voice shaking. The voices were screaming now, terrible screams. He shook his head back and fourth. "I can't do anything right. I ruined her Valentine's day. I ruined my chances of ever being with her." He couldn't hold his head up. The tears were about to overflow over his eyelids, his nose was a deep shade of red like his cheeks.
The Ravenclaw resorted to flashbacks of him at home, in France. They were happy memories. Memories of his Mum teaching him to bake, speaking only French. There were memories of his Dad sitting at home building model trains with him, and setting them off on the track. He remembered having his best friends over, playing chase around his Dad's orchard.
Specifically, he remembered being really sick. His body soon took the cold-like symptoms like in his vision and he turned a sickly pale, his muscles became weak. He remembered his Mum bringing him a glass of water, telling him he couldn't make it on the field trip to the Arc D'Triumph today, because he was sick and running a fever. His memory shifted to him waiting by his window for his friends to get dropped off at his house- they lived right next door. But they never showed.
'Rhye, I have something to tell you.' His mom spoke quietly to him in his head. She told him that his friends had been hurt really bad in a bus accident on their way home and that she wasn't sure if they would be able to come over. He remembered crying into her dress, her holding him and singing to him the same song he sang to Ophelia. His friends died that night in the hospital, he couldn't handle it. He didn't talk for the next two weeks. Rhye was scarred.
Snapping back, Rhye bunched his fists up against his knees and hugged tighter, his muscles rippling under his clothes. Its your fault they died. That should have been you on that field trip, you filthy mudblood. His head whispered to him, the over-due tears streaming down his face as he rocked back and fourth on the sixth step up.