A Horrible Place to Be

It's a horrible place to be; lost in your own darkness. It swallows you alive and it's nearly impossible to find a way out. I haven't seen the light for so long, I figure my soul is much the same way. I dream of her again, there's not much else to do.

I dream of the way that her blonde hair would fall carelessly across her shoulders and how it felt in my hands. Her smile, the one that she reserved just for me, and those deep blue eyes that made me give into her, every time. I try to grasp the fading memory of how it felt with her hand in mine. How it felt to hold her in my arms and watch her breathe. But that's all it is now; faded memories and endless dreams. Dreams that make the pain in my heart throb, that make me want nothing more than to just kiss her one more time.

But where I am there are no second chances. There is no concept of time, no concept of anything. I just lie here, crouched in the corner, in the total darkness waiting for my next tormenter. She probably thinks I'm dead, I might as well be. But I know that she'll move on, and she won't cry. Because that's just who she is, my Pansy. I was the only person who got her, who truly understood her. And now she's left with all those people who only try, stuck in a world where all she has are people who believe they understand her; but they don't, I know that. They never understood us.

What I wouldn't give to have her here with me now, instead of her ghost. To have her promising me that if I do something stupid and get myself killed or whatnot, that she won't cry. Because that's what she promised me; she always was stubborn. I was the one that brought her crashing into the light-side, tearing her away from the only world she had been raised in. And now...well, who knows where she is, or what she's doing. I only hope she's not thinking about me, as I am her.

This place, this cold damp cramped nothingness; it's nothing like the dungeons. It's worse, so much so. Because now, there is no her to keep me warm, there is no fire to show me her face. I almost forget what her face looks like after so long. I close my eyes and try to remember, it's the only thing I have left to live for. But it's so distant, like trying to hold water in my hands. The only thing I truly have is her voice, ringing inside my head.

'Why is the sky always so grey anymore?' she had whispered one night as we stared at the cloudy night.

'I don't know, love,' I had whispered back, kissing her on the forehead gently. "Just wait for the sun to come through,' I told her. "Because one day it will, and it will be the most wonderful thing of all.'

That's all I have left of her now, that simple, frail moment. But it's what I hold onto. It's how I get through the endless torture, and resist the Occlumency. It's how I don't tell them a thing. If only she knew that she was what I was surviving on now-a-days. I hope that she's far better off than me, because she deserves it.

The cell door opens, first time in a long time, and I squint my eyes.

"Father," my hoarse voice calls, making out the figure above me.

He doesn't say anything, just looks at me sadly. When I am coughing up blood on the floor from another of his wandless beatings, he leaves. He always does. But she won't, because that's what I survive on; her.

I sigh and curl up back against the wall. It's a horrible place to be; lost in your own darkness. But, until the sun comes through again, it's all I have.