There were notable people who fell to the guillotine; Marie Antoinette, Louis XVI, Georges Danton, Charlotte Corday, Maximilien Robespierre, and last but not least—me. Not the type of guillotine that sliced down on your neck and made your severed head—one of the very things that tied you to your body with bone and blood—roll to the floor from wood, but another type. The type that makes you cry in agony again and again, as pain never stops.
But I'm not the victim?
When I most feel like the blade is being sliced down is when I'm in The Room. I only call it that because it's not just a room. The walls seemed to crush the oxygen around me, making my lips turn blue. The stiff chairs always made my bones feel like wood, as they were forced to turn up, up, up. People always looked to me to solve problems, as if I knew more to fix them than make them. It was where my club was hosted.
I put another layer of lip gloss before wiping it off again, Gwen watching me from behind her magazine. 'I don't know why we're doing this anyway. Diggory's been stopping me in the halls all week, asking about auditions. Unfortunately, I'm not allowed to burn him alive. We're witches though.' She fixes the clip in her hair.
' "Can't live up to the hype, can't do anything,"' I mock the motto she supposedly lives by. The last few words still make something in me churn—can't do anything. The words haunt me. Sesame Well.
Age : seventeen.
Lifelong Goal : to die.
I carried my notebooks, rolling my eyes as we walked out of the Common Room. We walked down the corridor, and Gwen spoke up again. 'Cigarettes can actually kill you.' I chuckled. 'Matches aren't flames.' Gwen scrunched her face up in confusion.
I cleared my throat. 'Isn't dying the reason you take them? Everybody knows what it does to your lungs. It puts toxins into them. They become less used to air, so when you take a gulp of fresh oxygen, you choke, and die. It means that anyone could kill you with anything.' I speed my walk up. Gwen follows me through the throng of people.
'When you put it like that, it seems like you should either never smoke or smoke once, and smoke the rest of your life.'
Perhaps that was a flame?
'Maybe. That means, Gwen, that you should be smoking for the rest of your life, so you can damage yourself even more.' I said. Gwen swats my arm playfully, as giggles and laughs tumble past her lips.
SHOULD I STOP SMOKING, TOO—TO STOP THE PAIN?
ELLE SPEAKS !
this is a little filler chapter, and in the next, we get to see auditions, where they drink Veritaserum. i love the feedback people have been putting into this. but—pls vote, SPAM, and follow. my promo code is #SEDDY4LiFE
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broken hearts club , cedric diggoryHumor
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