It Has To Get Worse Before It Gets Better

afraid- oneshot/sneak peek

Madam Pomfrey comes back over, holding a silver hand mirror. She hands it to Remus and offers an encouraging smile. The mirror wobbles in Remus' trembling hands, the handle becoming slippy because of his sweaty palms. Remus takes a deep breath in and turns the mirror over hesitantly, lifting it up slowly in front of his face. He barely holds back a horrified gasp after seeing himself for the first time after the transformation. The first thing he noticed was how pale and lifeless he looked. His eyes had dark circles underneath them and his skin had a greyish blotchy complexion. His usually bright eyes were dull and tired, and his thin lips were chapped and pallid. New and old, his jagged scars stood out on his skin, more prominent and some still not healed. His breath hitched in his chest as he realised his worst nightmare:
He didn't recognise himself.
He stared at his reflection blankly, numb and expressionless, the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach becoming increasingly worse. He felt like he was in agonizing pain but couldn't feel anything at all, at the same time. As he inspects the jagged pink scars stretching across his face and neck, his breathing becomes restricted and his head swimming. He traces them with his shaking fingers carefully, hating them more and more by the second. He follows the long line starting by his eyebrow and running all the way up to his hairline and into his messy curls. He gingerly pushes them out of the way to see that there is a nasty line going through his scalp, the hair that was once there had been ripped out and left a silvery sort of line. Luckily the scar didn't go all the way into his hair, or was it too noticeable, if he brushed it right, he could hide it. But that didn't matter. He still hated it. He loathed the way it looked and felt on his head. He felt tears of anger and hate and sorrow prickle in his eyes and spill down his pallid cheeks and he let them. Usually he would wipe his tears away, but he just let the bitter stream fall, not even bothering when he could taste his tears, not even bothering when it felt like the whole of Niagara falls was running down his face, not even bothering when his whole face felt sticky, hot and cold at the same time. He just sat silently crying, wishing that things could be different. Eventually, his arm became numb from holding up the silver mirror and he dropped it down on the bed. He curled in on himself, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. Remus pulled the thin sheet over his whole body, hoping that somehow, he could just miraculously disappear into thin air, never to be seen again.
He shook the bed with the force of his sobs, but still managed to make minimal noise, a skill he had developed from years of having to hide his emotions. Why do I have to be like this? Remus thought bitterly. Why me? Why did greyback have to come along and ruin everything? At the thought of his father, and mother he cried more. They had tried to protect him and make it all better, but it never helped, of course it didn't. And ever since then Remus had lived in constant self loathing and terrified of every little thing. Meeting people, going to school, full moons, talking, himself. And when he had come to hogwarts, he was certain he would never make any friends, get taunted all the time. But he did, he found the boys: James, Peter, Sirius. Sirius. Thinking of Sirius, a harrowing sob ripped out of his throat. What would he think now? He's going to think I'm so ugly. He'll hate me. Remus cried helplessly into his knees, biting down on his knuckle to stifle the sound. He loved Sirius with all his heart, he loved him more than he would be thought humanely possible, he loved him so much it hurt. Sirius, and the others of course, had been the reason he'd survived all these years. He'd survived against the wolf inside of him, he'd survived against himself and his own cruel thoughts, he'd survived against the world because of them. And he was so grateful. There were times he'd wished he could just give up, begged silently to be let out of the torture that is his life, but he'd always make it with the help of his boys. Remus didn't quite know why, but thinking this made him miss them terribly, as if they'd died or something. The gut-wrenching sense of loss ate him from the inside out. He missed them so much, but somehow, however much he missed them, the thought of them being there, seeing him like this, terrified him. He hoped they wouldn't come and see him, afraid of what they'd say and think, afraid of himself and the wolf inside him, and it's capabilities to kill them if it wanted, and he couldn't stop it. He wished upon wishes that he could protect them and not put them in danger. But that would mean never seeing them again, and that would hurt far too much, more than the full moons, more than he could handle. He wished things were different, he wished he could have met them in a different life, maybe then he could be friends with then without feeling the unbearable sense of guilt that he had put them in terrible danger. Remus felt so guilty, he was in so much pain, yet he was so numb.
He was just so afraid.

Eh? How's that? Alright?
Idk if that was okay or whatever, it's very messy and confusing but I hope it was still somewhat enjoyable. The next part of the story is under construction so that should be up sooner or later.
How's yous? Hope y'all are okay.
Tell me about your days, I tried speaking to a friend the other day because I was lonely but they didn't want to talk to me so :( talk to meee pweases >>>>