Arabelle had found herself once again getting caught up in her own thoughts, sat in her bed, staring at the ceiling, she didn't feel a thing.
She didn't feel as if any of this was all real, her years at school were speeding by, it was beyond her how she had managed it, but she didn't know if she could last any longer without going completely mental.
She sat up and slid on her slippers, it was strange how weak she had let herself become on the inside, although she didn't show it, nor feel it, until she was left alone with her thoughts. Then the feelings eat away at her inside.
She didn't realise what time it was until she heard the birds chirping, she didn't want to leave the small bench in the courtyards.
She realised it was quite beautiful, the memories made there and all.
The bench Bridget cried to Saoirse and Nina on while Arabelle was away getting revenge for her friend.
The tree she climbed up to push Malfoy off, resulting in him pulling her off with him.
The gutter her and Kara threw their potions homework down as a protest against the essays Snape would set.
The apples her and Blaise picked to throw at Crabbe and Goyle for them to catch as first years tried manoeuvring around them.
She sighed, leaning her head on the tree, looking up at the sun, getting ready to head back to the common rooms.
She heard a faint clunk as she walked past the halls, she spun her head around and didn't see nothing, she sighed and opened the door to the common rooms.
She looked at Kara and Blaise who were laid on the sofa asleep, she looked back as she past them, promising herself that'd never be her.
She realised how good for nothing love was, it was utterly disappointing in many ways.
Arabelle checked the time and threw her uniform on and made her way to the great hall.
She sat at the breakfast table opposite Kara who looked at her warily and smiled, she returned the smile and piled the jam on her toast.
"I'm sorry about what Parkinson, she was out of order with what she said." Kara says, Arabelle shrugs.
"Not your fault."
-
Arabelle sat in the library staring at the book in her hand, she had skipped potions to sit and read magazines her mother had sent her, all with dresses or ballroom themes in.
It all seemed as if her mother had got her life back together, but Arabelle noticed the small stains of wine on the pages and scribbled writing.
She stared at a specific ball gown that would go with the design her mother had drew, she tore out the page of the magazine and shoved the rest in her bag, she folded the page with the circled dress on and picked up an envelope from the front desk to write a note to her mother.
Dear Mother,
How's father? He hasn't wrote, although I didn't expect him to. Here's the dress I like. Malfoy hasn't spoke about the ball, so maybe he might not be coming with his mother, I'm not sure.
- Arabelle x
As she exited the library she heard shuffling and a slam, she looked around in confusion, not finding anything, she couldn't tell whether she was going crazy or Voldemort was finally coming to kill her.
She rolled her eyes and made her way up to the bedroom, letting Malfoy take care of prefect duties since she was too tired.
Only a week until she could go home to the ball, but then again the Malfoy's were staying over the night of the ball since they would both be drinking.
She threw her fluffy pyjamas on and laid in bed, realising how lonely her life was as she drifted off.
