"Would you kill for love?" He sneered coldly.
"Love has destroyed me into the woman who stands before you. Broken, tethered, and utterly infatuated with a man who suffers the same fate as I." She said with a sorrowful chuckle.
•
The story of a naiv...
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1996
Everything feels still. Everything looks the same but doesn't. The castle is still the castle. Her bed is still her bed. The soft feeling of the green sheets against her hands. Astoria's eyes flit open to find a familiar sight.
Pansy. Pany Parkinson. Her roommate and one of her dearest friends. Sound asleep, whispering sweet nothings in her slumber.
Astoria rolls to the side of her bed and notices her clock. It is nearly 4:30AM.
She tries to roll back over to find a comfortable sleeping spot, but she is kept awake by her feet not being able to keep still. The feeling of anxiety is consuming her.
Astoria throws the blanket off and puts on a green Slytherin jumper. She decided she needs a quick smoke to calm her nerves, and if she still cannot sleep, she will watch the sunrise of the black lake.
A few soundless steps throughout the castle and out of the dungeons she finds a comfy spot next to a large oak tree overlooking the water.
She takes a seat in the cold grass and utilizes her breath in the cold air. She is freezing but in this point in time she does not care.
Astoria pulls a cigarette from her pocket and mutters the charm, incendio. A little flame lights the bud, and she inhales deeply. Astoria begins to see the sun peaking through over the water.
She is realizing her life will never been as it was. She had so many dreams for herself. To go to Italy and study art. Watch how art in Italy differed from France. To examine the Mona Lisa. To stare at her and wonder why she is smiling.
Is Mona Lisa happy with her life? Did she accomplish all she desired? Did she have a master as well?
Mona Lisa had a master, except her master was her creator. Astoria seemed to realize she could relate herself with Mona Lisa. Created by man, gawked at for the world to see, sold, and moved around as the world pleased. Except Astoria was not a speechless painting. She was a human being, but she was being taken away by the man who allowed her to live past birth.
Astoria lied on her back, looking up at the large oak tree.
She felt cold tears streaming down her cheeks. A sniffle or two left her nostrils.
"What is my life now?" She whispered to herself.
She wondered if anyone would answer. She was hoping someone would scream from above her and tell her she always has a choice when it comes to her life's journey.
Except it was not only Astoria's journey anymore. It was much bigger than that.
She held the emerald necklace in her palm. Her most prized possession.
Soon she felt herself drifting into slumber due to mental exhaustion.
If only she could rest peacefully and not have constant worr-
