Alone I Break

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My eyelids are heavy. The weight of so many nights without sleep seems to be pushing them down tonight. But I force them open. For too long have I closed my eyes to shield myself from the devastation I have had throughout my pitiful existence. I am spread out lazily on the blood red velvet couch, like a cat but without the satisfaction of having no worries. My right arm acts as a cushion for my head. I can feel it numbing where the weight has been there for too long. I can feel the blood slowing down. It is time.

I stand up carefully so as not to make myself dizzy. Picking up a CD that lies by the couch, I walk over to the player and insert the disc. The music is dark, frightening at times but only to the weak hearted. This particular song is my life. Each word sung , each note played is by me. Alone I Break.

Pick me up

Been bleeding too long

Right here, right now

I'll stop it some how.

He will be home soon. My guard who hardly ever lets me out of his sight for fear that I will do this. I will do it to spite him, to show that he does not own me and never has. For that is what he has always wanted. A woman he could dominate, a woman he could use for sex anytime he felt like it and stupidly I obliged. At first I thought he loved me. The way he touched, the way he kissed, the way he made love to me all made me see him through rose coloured glasses. Until he raped me.

I will make it go away

Can't be here no more

Seems this is the only way

I will soon be gone

My father had died that morning. I had been at the manor when my mother had phoned to tell me. My father, a Zabini, with wizarding blood so ancient and so rare it was precious. I loved my father with all my heart. I loved him like my mother never had. He deserved better than the whore who gave birth to me. We would sit together for hours, talking about the past, the present and my future. I craved affection from him and he always gave me it. Showering me with gifts that go beyond the dreams of any small girl. And then he left me. I had cried for the first time in my life, for the whole day.

Then he returned from the Ministry, saw me crying and comforted me. But seeing how weak I was seemed to give him a thrill. He began to kiss me, softly at first, in between reassuring words, but when I pushed him away as he tried to undress me, he became angry. The pain I felt that night wasn't just emotional. I had bruises and scratches all over my body for weeks where he had been so forceful. But the worst blow of all happened a month later.

These feelings will be gone

These feelings will be gone

Now I see the times have changed

Leaving us, it seems so strange

I am hoping I can find, where to leave my hurt behind

All the shit I seem to take

All alone I seem to break

I have lived the best I can

Does this make me not a man?

I found out I was pregnant. I knew immediately what I had to do. There was no way I was bringing a child into this world which had been the result of rape. Of a crime. My father had always brought me up against abortion, but I couldn't put the child through having a Malfoy for a father. And it would give me a connection to the bastard, even if I did manage to escape. I couldn't have a legal abortion. The wizarding world frowned upon it and so therefore I had to go to muggle cities. I found one in London. The cost to take a young life was £1000 pounds. And how did they do it? A dose of heroin so strong it would make me miscarry. I decided then, as the needle went into my vein and the lethal contents was injected that I did not deserve o live. I was killing an innocent life because of one person. I had broken emotionally and physically because of one person. I had lost all sense of dignity because of one person. He wanted to damage me, to make me go insane with humiliation and guilt. I pretended I had. I pretended I didn't know he went out and fucked anything with a pulse, including men. He thinks I am broken. But after tonight, I will have won.

The last time he had found me close to death was the heroin overdose I had taken. The abortion had given me an addiction to the stuff. He made me tell him what had happened and I laughed as I told him I had killed our child. His child. He kept me under his eye all the time after that. The routine was the same everyday. Wake me up, fuck me, get dressed, go to work, come home, fuck me, go out to whore houses, come home, fuck me again and go to bed.

The song finishes so I play it again, pressing the repeat button. This is his favorite song by his favorite band and he knows the words and he knows the meanings. When he walks in, he will know what I have done. I walk into the kitchen and take the knife from the stand. Placing the sharp point to the vein in my wrist I push down and slice it across the flesh. At first the pain is hot and searing, but then, as the blood begins to seep out of the slit and drip down to the cream rug I am standing on, I realize that with each drop that falls, a part of the fear and hurt go with it. He has poisoned my blood, and now it leaves me. I repeat the action again, this time I feel nothing. Again and again the knife is drawn across the skin until I feel faint with loss of blood. The knife clatters to the floor and I follow it. I am no longer his prisoner, no longer his slave, no longer the woman he thought he had broken. I am dying and I can't wait. I do not believe in heaven. But I believe in hell, because I have lived in it for the past five years. I lay down knowing my time is through, the words of the song still blaring at maximum volume. They seem distant. I have left him a goodbye note,

Dearest Draco

You can hurt me no more. See you in hell you bastard

Blaise