"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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1999
It has been days, perhaps weeks since my imprisonment. All I can see is darkness from wall to wall and sometimes the faint light from the top of the staircase. The infection on my arm has not healed from the carving and every time I touch the scab, I feel the pain trickle through my body.
Why has no one come for me? Have I been forgotten? Am I lost to the world? Was I presumed dead? I am not dead. I have lived through a war, witnessed countless deaths, and felt my heart break into pieces. I suppose it is my fault, did I expect him to change for me? Everything I did, I did for him. My fault.
The only thing I can feel anymore is pain, and even that is becoming comfort. The reason why my wound has not healed is because I keep re-opening it. The warmth of my own blood trickling down my arm is the only warmth I have.
Do I regret choosing him over everyone else I ever loved? No, because nobody has ever meant more to me than him, and nobody will ever mean more to him than her.
I suppose I sound like a nutter when I talk about him. Nobody has ever seen more of me than he has, not even the man I thought I was once destined for, turns out he was nothing more but a dear friend.
I feel my body has weakened from malnutrition and the only person I must talk to is myself, but I suppose it is better that way. Sometimes I enjoy walking around the darkness and seeing how far the walls carry me. I slide my hands down the sides and every so often I will get further and further until I hit a wall.
I cannot blame her for calling for help from her own people, I would have done the same if I were confused by my own memories. I was the one who constructed them myself, and I must say, I was quite intricate.
I constructed those replacement memories carefully because I wanted her to feel the anguish I felt once. The feeling of having your heart strings snap one by one. The unbearable feeling of looking into those horribly gorgeous grey eyes and feeling nothing but betrayal. The feeling of betrayal in a heart is far more lethal than any physical injury.
I have felt my skin being carved by a deranged Death Eater, I have felt magical exhaustion and I have also experienced betrayal. The irony of my betrayal is I am not disgusted by the situation anymore. I once thought that she would be a passing thought for him, and he would find his way back to me.
How can you tear someone away from their soulmate? I have never seen a man ruin himself more for a woman than he has for her. And I have never seen a woman travel dark lengths for a man more than her. I just wish that woman would have been me. I was ready to spend my days with him, induct him into the Order and travel the world on his arm. He was going to show me everything the Wizarding World had to offer, but in my isolation, I came to the realization that not everything is as it seems.
I will never be her and I will never have a piece of the man I love again, and I still love him endlessly. That is my curse that he left me with. The way his fingers felt tracing my body, the way his lips felt against mine, or the way his eyes scanned the presence of my figure.
