brigid_cross (brigid_cross) wrote in lookingaheadrpg, @ 2011-06-14 07:16:00 |
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Entry tags: | + complete, 2025 06, brigid maccarthaigh, rose weasley |
Evil head...
Date: June 14, 2025
Characters: Brigid MacCarthaigh and Rose Weasley
Location: Hogwarts
Private/Public: Semi-Private
Rating/Warnings: None
Summary: Brigid's migraine gets the best of her
Her eyes closed as she fought off the latest wave of nausea. With a final swipe of her quill, Brigid finished the written portion of the exam. Upon handing the parchment to the professor overseeing, she bolted. The candlelight pierced her eyes and the sound of her hurried steps appeared louder than normal. Pushing the door up to the nearest loo, she darted into the nearest stall and promptly proceeded to be sick. Somewhere between the seat where she took her exam and the bathroom stall, she lost a shoe and half the contents of her bag.
The migraine began early that morning. However, unlike the rest of the school year, she couldn't very well take a sick day. All day, she dealt with light and sound sensitivity, a constant throbbing headache and nausea. Finally vomiting the minimal amount of food she had that day, Brigid sagged against the stall wall; her bag with quills, book and parchment were scatter all over the floor.
Scrunching her face up in pain, she blindly reached for the bag, digging deep into one of the pockets. Her fingers pushed aside bits and pieces until the tips brushed a glass vial. Pulling the vial free, Brigid finally noticed how badly her hand shook, partly from her recent retching and partly from the intense pain in her head. Slowly, she tried to pulled the stopper out, but her hands trembled so badly that it slipped from her hands, shattering on the floor.
"NO!" she cried, a sob escaping soon after. Before she could stop them, hot salty tears began to stream down her face. Stress from exams, stress from the unknown future, stress from her fear of failure all came crashing down around her. Sobbing almost uncontrollably, Brigid tried, but failed to push away her inner demons.
So much for even a glimmer of hope of passing now. Just accept that you're going to just follow in your mother's footsteps and become a barmaid who is forced to find only the smallest emotional connection in the arms of strangers because no one would ever love you. Who could possible love a failure like you? Like mother, like daughter...
Still, sobbing Brigid leaned over the toilet once more and dry heaved the last of her meager toast. Five minutes passed before she sagged against the stall wall again. Once she was finished, she curled up on the floor, begging, praying the pain would just go away long enough for her to crawl back to the Gryffindor tower and into bed.