Rating:
R
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Ginny Weasley Tom Riddle
Genres:
Angst Drama
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 04/27/2004
Updated: 04/27/2004
Words: 901
Chapters: 1
Hits: 192

I am Walking

Morbid Fascination

Story Summary:
So...Ginny Weasley killed herself and Tom Riddle is free of the confines of her head, he is walking, she is soaring, and he will not ever walk again...

Posted:
04/27/2004
Hits:
192
Author's Note:
Totally the product of a very morbid mind and a very boring movie in social studies class, I HATE Gettysburg. I love my betas who did not beta, and I love Fred more. THIS WARNING IS FOR THE IDEALS THAT GO WITH GINNY'S DEATH AND THE VERY BRIEF SEXUAL INNUNDEO. Not sure that is spelt right.


I am Walking

I thought that I might regret my choice when I sensed the last whispers of white washing off me. I thought I would surly fear the darkness and what is here in the beyond.

But when the blood calmly trickled to a final stop and the spare white dissipated to be replaced with large quantities if black I realized I had nothing to regret.

There are moments in death when you look upon the world you once knew and see the wreckage you left behind. The wreckage you caused. Two slits, some time, and seconds latter there is nothing left in your path besides salty tears and before you, you have no future unfolding.

To make the ultimate decision, and slaughter you soul is to free yourself of all previous engagements, and to locate the parts of yourself you thought missing.

Death is the time when you pick-up the pieces and frame them with honor. The pieces are many in number, some are jagged, others are the remains of what was never, and even more are parts of your past here to haunt you. Funny to think of ghosts being haunted. No matter the perils that rested before death, you are able to withstand anything that clashes upon you. Because the only clashes here are the battles of the soul.

The serenity here is broken and is not as you imagine, the peace is shuttering, the air stale, and nobody rests in eternal sleep. There is no sleep for the dreamless.

However, there is no regret, from any party. To know what I will always be remembered as, and to know what I left pushes away the regret. When you can face the violent winds of forever and know exactly who you are, you fear nothing more than the pondering wraiths of your own soul.

Your inner self is the only thing that can ruin the stasis. Can, not necessarily will. I'm not allowing myself the luxury of guilt, I have no guilt. Even when I look at my wrists I can have no guilt because when I look at my wrists I see only the pure white of what I was, never what I alone inflicted.

It was so simple to kill myself, so smooth and delicate, and now I soar alone. I had every reason to do it; all the aggravators were present. And now...

I'm released from Tom, and he from me.

******

To fall free is not the way I would have chosen to be freed from Ginny. I never wanted to be part of this limbo where I am little more than vapor and little more than the memory I was imprisoned as.

It is so aggravating to be walking here and yet to be nothing more than what I aspired not to be. To know that dear Ginny Weasley is safe and happy in a guiltless bliss, and I am imprisoned to this pathetic plain of being where I haven't the power to wreak havoc.

******

I lied. I told you I was released from him, I will never be released, it is only a thing I tell myself to keep me from remembering. A trick to keep me from falling all over again.

I fell for him, he was the one I wanted to worship, and to have my worship returned. Yes, I knew it was forbidden, but that was not a particular care of mine. The fact that I was not supposed to revel in the light feathery kisses, and in the soft caresses. It was so terribly dangerous, and I knew it. I loved it.

Having the Riddle in me, getting pushed over the edge to the point of no return exhilarated me, made me tremble, and made me gasp for more. The entire part of my first summer home I wanted nothing more than to have Tom with me again, and when he returned to haunting me I wished for the exact opposite.

The art of pleasing Tom became my sole goal in life and until I realized that he was making me change, altering me away from the truth of me. I lost myself and at the time pain was the only thing that would keep me on my given trail.

Now that I haven't the pain to distract me I have found that Tom will never leave me, but that I have embraced the part of me wrapped in his essence.

I think that this is what death is about, coming to terms with...with whatever it is you abandoned...coming to terms with yourself...death is the pure simple undaunted truth...served to you on a mirror of self reflection... death is...is...is...whatever you seek.

*****

Ooooh, I know that a sound childish but it is what I feel for Ginny dear, Ginny. The contempt for her is bubbling.

I am walking and I can't do anything. Nothing, my future doesn't even recognize me, and I have nothing except my past and the future has everything but a past.

My past is not a place I want to visit, not one part of it. Or at least none of the parts where I am without Ginny. I once laughed as she fell through the air, tormented her as the wounds deepened, but I know that secretly I wanted to stop her.

I may be walking but I will never walk.


Author notes: Okay, the knife you use to cut yourself will hurt even more when you plung it into your gut, but don't worry, if you REVIEW you won't have to die.
Comforting aren't I?