Victoire. (vforvictoire) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2014-05-12 13:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | theodore nott, victoire weasley |
WHO: Victoire Weasley & [OPEN] Theodore Nott
WHERE: The beach
WHEN: Monday, early afternoon
WHAT: Reflecting
RATING: Language
There were some days Victoire loved it here, getting to meet people who were long dead by the time she was born and getting more freedom than she had ever had in her entire life. Meeting the Founders. Meeting Merlin. Meeting the few friends she'd managed to make here that hadn't disappeared yet. Those were the good days, the ones that reminded her that jumping off a bridge probably wasn't the best way to handle the bad ones.
And this was a bad day. She hadn't exactly hoped for anyone to appreciate the sense of humour she was trying to keep about the entire mad situation that was this place, but she absolutely had not expected the slaughter that had followed from her own family.
It had been a knife to the heart, a blow to the gut, a keen wrench in the deepest part of her that only grew more painful the more she thought about it, and never in the nine months she'd been in the village had she felt so completely and utterly unloved and alone. It was a stupid moment for that realisation, really - it wasn't as if it was the first time she'd felt dismissed and marginalized in this place, and it definitely wasn't the first time members of her family had gone after her for a twist of words. But something about this incident in particular had hit her especially hard, and it left her reeling.
Too dazed and shocked to go to school, she'd remained in her bedroom for the morning, reading the entry and the comments again and again, internalizing it until it felt as if the viciousness and hostility in their words - especially her sister's - had wrapped itself around her insides, choking her until she could barely breathe. She could handle being the only one on this side of the line, with no friends or allies to support her, but she couldn't handle feeling unloved and unwanted and so completely worthless. Not like this. And whether they'd meant it that way or not, that was exactly how she took it after spending hours staring at those pages.
Feeling as if the walls of her bedroom were closing in around her, she fled the house and cut through the backstreets until she reached the edge of the water. It wasn't one of the beaches often used, and she couldn't remember ever spending much time here before at all. But it was quiet, and the water was still cold from the winter thaw, so she lay down on the sand and closed her eyes, soaking up the sun and trying to ignore the aching hollowness inside her. She'd left her journal back in her bedroom, and right now that was the best place for it. She was already broken. Anything more from anyone she loved, and she would be shattered completely.
Somewhere out there was the family she remembered, who loved her the way she loved them. And the one consolation she had in this place was that when she disappeared or died again, she wouldn't remember any of this pain. It wasn't much, but it was something.