BLACK (H.S)

BLACK Chapter 40

Song: I'll show you - Justin Bieber

Quote: "The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering, is to forgive." - John Green

BLACK Chapter 40

I know Harry will be highly upset if he knew I was in his study room without asking of him first, but he has gone to collect his new medication from Isabella. I can not help but walk through the opened doorway as it creaks to my entrance. Harry won't let me sit with him when he writes, he states that I will distract him and he doesn't need distractions when he is trying to think. I stare at the painted walls before like I have the first time I entered this room. It is the most magical and inspiring room he owns. It is still as beautiful as Harry makes it out to be.

The vigorous red painted portion of his mind has not been touched in over weeks. I can tell by the old flame of the candle wax. I know Harry loves lighting a candle when be is writing. But, it seems he has not written in his red side in over a while. The hanging moral of the empty picture frame, now holds a photo of a faceless woman dressed in a deep shade of blue.

I turn to the next side of the room, his calm white soul. I reach the wooden desk, where Harry has left his written book, opened. His handwriting is the most beautiful form of silent language I have seen. It's the equivalent of his velvet voice. I read his words carefully not missing the difficult scripted handwritten sentences.

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-      We can easily forgive the child who fears of the dark; but the real tragedy is when man is afraid of the light. But the only thing we have to fear is ourselves.

I read the small paragraph of Harrys' mind out loud and it sounds almost too much like what Harry would say if it was him speaking. The multiple picture frames hanging above my head have not been replaced since the beginning. The captured image of a timekeeper meter still rests against the frame instead of an actual working clock. I have told Harry over a thousand times that he should just replace it with a moving one but he refuses, stating that frozen time is the only time where pain is measured.

I turn my head to the last corner of the room, the black side. His dark side. The side of the room that holds his true self. The clicking time watch sitting on top of the desk irritates the headache I have already gained from the lack of light in the room. Before he notices anything is moved, I stop myself from touching his belongings. The black candles resting besides the edges of the desk are still heated with a light flame. I smell of the jasmine scented and the feathered ink pen as I sit in the leather chair, that has never made me feel comfortable.

Harrys' notepad is wide open with small amounts of words escaping throughout the pages of his thoughts. I know I should not read them, especially this side of the room but I can't help drown my eyes in his descriptive paragraphs. He has spent the last 3 days plastered in this room with his head in his hands. He tells me he is fine and needs the space to write the voices in his mind down, but I still need to know if he is alright.

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-      Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves. But I shiver from the thought. She is the most annoying human being I have ever laid eyes upon. She is the most outspoken individual. And it scares me, that one day she will loose her mind and it will be by fault for her doing so.

I frown as I read his sad mind, that has still not has an understanding of me.

-     But she is also the most magnificent Bambi in all of the land, who's eyes could light up the trees to flames. And my suffering will soon become her suffering.