His Awesome Power

Lord's Awesome Power

My depression will not be grieved, so I will not grieve for others. I only have myself here; no one misses me. Whether I die or not affects no one's life. To me it would seem that this is the dream, the nightmare. But I guess its better this way. I guess.

Seventeen years-old. Seven years in an insane asylum. Six years of education, mediocre as it was. Zero years spent in life. So this was the beginning of year one.

He tucked the bottom of his sweater into his pants. The sweater was a green one with an 'H' on it. Ginny's mother had given it to him as congratulation present for leaving the ward. Ginny hadn't left, she was still there. He shivered, rocking back and forth on the large bed in his large room. It was exceedingly cold for September going on October. So he cried.

My depression will not be grieved. Everyone has left me. My family comes to visit me to their convenience. What a problem and burden I am to this life. If only they knew how unsafe I was here. He is going to get me, I will never rest. Harry used to dream. Maybe l will dream too. Maybe he will come save me. Maybe.

She sat there in her two-bedded room of the ward. It was ever so lonely without Harry there anymore. Sometimes he was normal when he was here. She could talk to him at those fleeting moments of sanity.

But now she could never talk to him; just because his sanity was "permanent". It was a Holiday in about a month, so she might be able to leave then. But much could happen in a month.

(=)

There were books in Harry's rooms. He walked slowly, achingly, toward them because he was weak. He hadn't eaten much recently. He wasn't very big either. Nor was Ginny, not that it mattered because she was part of a different life. His old life, ward zero life.

He pulled one book down and opened it in the middle of the book.

Every seven moons, an eclipse by the name of the Hunter's Moon comes within the week of Halloween. It is rumored that the hunter's moon channels powers to select being of fierce atmosphere to exploit their animal instincts. It is the only full moon that the werewolf effect goes in reverse...

There was a picture of the described, but Harry closed it. There was something just not right about that passage.

Cold.

He placed it back quietly as if there was someone else in the room to disturb. He picked a thinner, happier looking one.

...And the girl who had not listened to her parents, not going home when they said she should, got lost in the forest. She tried to find her way back but she could not. There were lots of noises that frighten her but she wanted the magical apples so desperately she kept going

Flipping the pages...

...A lake surrounded the magical apple tree. Her parents told her if she came to any water not to go in it, but she did not listen. When entering the water, the apple tree was actually the gremlin in disguise and turned her into an apple tree. She was left in that cold water forever.

Harry closed this book too. He was started to feel upset for reasons he couldn't begin to think of.

Ice.

But why stop at two?

He knew he shouldn't but he felt compelled to pick up another.

...as the brain stops sending signals to the nervous system, the body becomes unable to function.

Death.

This couldn't be; the walls were closing in on him. These books were evil, this room was evil. He had to expunge the bad. Sweat was dripping from his forehead. Dizziness was surrounding his head. Gripping the wall for support he moved in route of the door. His hand reached out but the door knob was shrinking.

Desperation.

He leapt to the door knob. He had to get out of this room before it killed him. He turned to door, but it was stuck. He tried harder but the door was laughing at him.

"Stop it, stop it! Let me out!"

The draw seemed to open itself, and there were the matches.

Solution.

And how pretty the door was when it melted, when it burned. And the books, they were trapping him too. The last thing he watched burning was the picture of the iced tree that was once a girl. Now she was ashes. Soon he would be ashes too.

(=)

"Do not leave him in a room too long by himself."

"Oh, it won't be a problem, he's absolutely fine," said the old grandfather. He grinned to himself. His boy was well, normal. It had been difficult to educate him on what he missed over the years but he was fine.

The old man hobbled to his limo to be driven home. Everything was fine. Everything.

(=)

It's only second degree.

Good thing you found him in time.

It could have been too late.

Very lucky.

Indeed.

"Has he ever done anything like this before?"

"No," the old man grumbled. How proud he had been, but everything close slips away...eventually.

"Well, actually," a nurse started, "there was that incident with Cedric Diggory."

Ah, the Diggory boy.

How sad.

But you can't blame the boy.

Well it was his fault, and his fault alone.

True.

The boy was sick, what can you say?

You mean is.

Was!

If you say so...if you say so.

(=)

It had been time to distribute the bed clothes that day in the ward. Nurse Chang had the duty and she did so with a very false smile as usual. But the boys didn't pick up on the insincerity of her notions; they felt special because of her attention.

All people have their favorites, all people have their jealousy.

"And here you are, Cedric," nurse Chang began, "an extra fluffy pillow for an extra handsome boy." Nurse Change pressed his nose slightly and Cedric giggled happily.

Green eyes will always remain green.

"I need a pillow too."

"In a moment, Harry," nurse Chang called without even looking at him. She continued to fix up Diggory for bed. Harry waited. "Alright, there's a patient boy, here you go." She fluffed his pillow and whatnot. "Now everyone line up for bathroom."

So everyone got in their pairs as they lined up on the yellow strip of tape. The ward headed out to the bathroom for nightly wash up.

In the bathroom Cedric was at Harry's Sink.

On the way back, Cedric had taken his usual place in line on left.

There was a stair well on the way back from the bathroom. It would be so nice to push him and never have to see him again, so nice.

As if by wishful thinking, Diggory lost his footing and started to tumble down the stairs. Harry rushed over and surprisingly caught him.

Praise.

"What a good deed you did today, Harry, I'll be sure to inform master Malfoy so you can get an extra special treat in the morning." Chang left the room and turned off the lights.

A special treat just for him and not for Cedric. That was right; Harry had finally beaten Cedric in something. And it was going to stay that way. Wasn't it? Cedric couldn't go back to being Cho's favorite, could he? What if they felt sorry for Cedric almost dying and decided to give a treat for that? That wouldn't be fair. He didn't do anything. He was taking Harry's glory. It was Harry's glory not his!

Harry grabbed his glass from his bed side table and threw it out of anger. It shattered everywhere.

"Oh no," Harry breathed as he got to the floor to clean it up. He couldn't see where the glass had landed and felt something sharp cutting through his palm.

Pain.

"What going on?" Cedric had woken up but none of the other four had. "What you do? You broke glass? You going be in trouble."

"Sssh. I know," hissed Harry.

"You going be in trouble. You going be in trouble," Cedric repeated happily.

Panic.

Harry took a handful of glass painfully in his fist and stumbled over to Cedric in the dark.

"You going be in trouble." But that chant died up when the screaming started.

Murder.

He ripped every portion of that porcelain face. When the screams didn't stop he tightened his glass encrusted hands around his throat.

When the nurses and doctors found him he said that Voldemort killed Cedric, Voldemort was to blame, which was absolutely true. After all, Voldemort was the sickness of insanity.

(=)

Ginny had been telling the nurses that she was attacked every night. They didn't believe her and they were anything but sympathetic. But she knew that they didn't listen to her because she spoke the truth.

"That's it," said one of the nurses, "to the headmaster with you." The burse dragged her along and placed her into a chair as was routine. "Hey you go Master Lucius," and the nurse left.

"My, my, Ginny love, we keep having to have these little meetings don't we? I'm sure you're going to understand why I have to punish you this time. You are going to start having to be a good girl, you wouldn't want me to give you the medicine that made your friend sick now do you?"

Ginny had known for a while now that Malfoy had given Harry some "medicine" that made him lose his mind when he was eleven. Malfoy wanted Harry admitted into the hospital because Harry would not only get the deed to the hospital once Evans (owner of Dumbledore Electronics, more commonly known as just Dumbledore) died, but a number of other lucrative city businesses. If Harry was insane, then Malfoy, Evans' son in law, would own all those business he so desired.

Ginny was angry but there was nothing she could do about it now, there was never going to be anything she could do about it. Not only about Harry, but about herself too; no point in struggling to leave the room. She used to try to leave every time, now she just stood by the wall and took her punishment.

Acceptance.

Mr. Malfoy took the silver chain out of his top middle drawer and placed it in his fire place. Ginny took off her shirt, and then her pants. "This is going to be the last time I will do this. The last time," a single tear rolled down her cheeks before she the chain hit her.

"Ginny, I thought you understood the more you talked the harder this was for you." He swung the hot chain extra hard. The less that came from her mouth, the harder he swung. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of hearing her screams. She would let the nurses scream for her when they found out her plan. It was perfect, nothing could go wrong.

Acquiescence.

"Floor," he commanded.

Ginny didn't care how long this punishment would last because Harry was going to save her. That was her plan. She was sure it would work.

(=)

It was quite coincidental that she knew Harry would be coming to visit her in a couple of days. So for a couple of days she didn't cause the nurses any problems. For a couple of days she didn't drink, eat or sleep. For a couple of days she remained absolutely silent.

The old grandfather walked his grandson up to his old room in Ward Zero to pay his little friend one final respect. He thought it best to move Harry out of the area for a while, and then maybe he could get better.

Harry opened the door. The only light in the room was that of which just filtered in from him opening the door. A white piece of paper in extremely neat small cursive and red ink fluttered to his feet and he picked the paper up.

No one believed me. Even you, when you were here, were too involved in your own world to hear me screaming for someone. But my scars are my vital proof that the only thing I did to be put in this ward was try and fight. I'm done fighting now, Harry, you can be free, I'm free now. Isn't it nice to know that Voldemort is dead? I always wanted to fly, Harry, but I didn't have a broom like you did, I didn't have a world to run to. I knew when I came here that my depression would not be grieved and I was right. Ginny

Harry's finger had smudged the ink, which he realized wasn't ink at all. He turned on the light and flashes of red caught his eye. All over the white hospital walls was scribbled "My depression will not be grieved."

Suicide.

Did you hear about that girl?

How tragic.

How simple and expected.

What else is in the news today?

Floods, always floods.

You were wrong, Ginny, I grieved.

The funny thing is, if Ginny hadn't freed herself, Harry would have never gotten better, not truly.

Thus is seen the awesome power of the Dark Lord Voldemort.