Nothing Really Matters

Nothing Really Matters

She lies on the earth, her weak body on the strong earth, her warm body on the cold earth. Her warm body slowly cooling down.
She can taste blood in her mouth; she can feel it, running down her face. Her arms feel too heavy to wipe it away, so she let it stay. It's not like it really matters anymore.

There's scream and yelling and curses thrown everywhere around her. People are killing, like she did, people are falling, like she did, people are dying, like she does. It is war after all. People die in war. She doesn't feel bitterness over it. It's the order of nature, the rule of war. She wonders shortly if he is still alive, fighting for the other side. But it doesn't really matter if he's dead or not, not for her. It's over for her, she's dying. Maybe they will meet on the other side, maybe they won't.

Her body still hurts, yet not so much anymore. The pain was worst right after she got hit, but now... Now it is almost gone. It doesn't feel so bad anymore, just... right.
Last time she had done something she felt was right, she remembers, was when she was with him. It had been body against body, mind against mind. They had been fighting all the time. But it had felt right. Back then war had kept her alive, and when it was over, a part of her had died. She ended it because of her family; she didn't want to hurt them. She had thought they had heard, and she realised first she was wrong when it was too late. He was gone with her heart, and she had then realised that you can't life without a heart.
She wonders shortly if she always will hurt her family, when she does something she feels is right. But it doesn't matter anymore, though. Last time a part of her had died when she stopped doing something she felt was right. This time she would die because she did something she feels is right. It feels... right.

Around her the yelling and screaming and cursing is fading away. There is almost silent, but only almost. Sometimes she can hear someone cry. Sometimes she can hear someone yell, "Don't die! Please, don't die!" but she doesn't understand why. It isn't that bad to die, the pain is almost gone now. She smiles to the sun, the warm sun, at that thought. "Time will heal all scars," she once said to him. Now she knows it is wrong. Death will heal all scars, heal all pain. But only death, not time.

Over her the clouds are stirring, following the summer breeze, creating new forms. She finds them fascinating, interesting. She likes to look at them, but it is hard, it is hard to keep her eyes open. She feels so tired, so tired...
So she closes her eyes, feeling the warm sun against her skin. She likes that too. It feels... right, laying here, and waiting for death. Maybe she'll see him again?

Far away she can hear someone yell, "Ginny! Ginny!" and she wonders shortly if that's her name. It says her something, she remembers it. But it doesn't matter anymore. She is dying, it isn't that hard. She smiles. It feels so right. It is...

Not so hard to die...

She is death.