Poppy Pomfrey (poppy_p) wrote in changedrpg, @ 2011-10-31 23:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | !date: 1997 - october, poppy pomfrey |
Who: Poppy Pomfrey
When: Over the last week or so
Where: Unknown
What: A glimpse into Poppy's mental state at present
Rating: Low (unless you have an allergy to melodrama)
The thing about breaking was that it didn’t have to happen all at once. Poppy had no grand moment when everything she was turned to dust; she didn’t shatter.
But she wasn’t whole anymore, either.
She had told herself that she would be fine, that he could take her freedom and her dignity without gaining anything important, because she hadn’t yet learned how it felt when pieces of self slipped from her fingers. Who knew, at her age, she could still be naïve?
Her doubts spoke in Antonin’s voice, and she lost a bit more faith with every thought that crept from the shadows. They are not looking for you. They do not care that you are gone. They think you deserve this. How could she believe such things?
How could she not?
She was strong and she was stubborn, but it had been weeks and weeks and mostly, Poppy was tired. She was tired, and he spoke to her, the only voice to break the silence. He spoke of his daughter, his time as a healer, and he was undeniably a person, not a monster. He healed her after he hurt her.
As she sat hunched in her cell, Poppy admitted to herself that thing about breaking was that it mattered who picked up the pieces.