To Die Without Pain

Tom.

It has been so long since I have written your name. But even after all this time, it still flows from my fingers as smoothly as ink from the quill. It still looks perfect, shining in still-wet black ink on the yellowed parchment.

I know that this diary is not enchanted. The words I am writing sit here, as plain as day. But I am hoping that you can see this somehow. That you will know that I need you. You used to, Tom. Do you remember? Every time I was sad, you would come to me, whisking me away into a world with no darkness, no pain. Where I could dance for hours and hours upon end, never worrying about the sunrise, and waking up, because there was no sun rise or sun set in our world. Only love and laughter and the state of being.

So much has happened, Tom, since you went away. For so long, I tried to stay strong, to forget about you and move on. But how can I forget something that lives inside of me> because you are still with me, Tom. I can hear you in most in the night, when everything is silent. Your voice has never faded from my ears. Your touch still crawls along my skin on occasion.

Trust me when I say I tried everything I could think of to rid myself of you. I mutilated my own body, attempting to cut you away. I tried to take my own life, hoping that your spirit would remain here and I could be free, at last, in death. But they found me before I could, thinking it was just a tragic accident. No way that I could do that, not sweet, happy little Ginny.

I cried myself to sleep for many nights after. I refused to accept your presence. I would not stop until I was free.

But I am through with all that, Tom. This world has fallen apart and you are all I have left to hold on to.

Harry is dead. He was killed in his last year of school. You used Hermione as bait. How could you have known that he loved her? You promised to keep her alive. You lied.

You ripped apart my family. My father, Bill, Charlie, George. All dead. Ron drive to insanity by the death of his best friend and his lover. Fred barely hanging on by a thread, drowning in grief. George was more than just his brother. They were soul mates. But you never did care much for love, did you?

I am so tired of fighting. Always fighting. For justice. For safety. For revenge. For life itself. Struggling to survive in a world that I do not even recognize anymore. It is now a world of constant darkness, never knowing how long it will be until the next attack.

It has been over seven years since I last called on you Tom. Seven years since you left me down in that cold, dark chamber and attempted to rob me of my life. You failed then. I fought you. I will not fight you now. I am no longer a foolish eleven year old girl in love. I am an adult asking for an escape from a world I cannot live in any longer. Come to me now, Tom. Complete the work you started all those years ago. Come live your future. And take away mine.

I will be waiting.

Love, Ginny

~*~

The room is still and quiet, the only sound the slow drip of water onto the floor. It appears empty. But a few feet from the door, there lies the body of a girl with flaming red hair. Her face is pale, her eyes open but blank. Looking but seeing nothing. There are no marks. No bruises, no blood. Only a small smile curving across her cold lips and a quill grasped in her hand.