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Chapter 1 : numb
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 17|
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the following story is about a girl that suffers from depression, social anxiety, and slight anorexia/bulimia. this girl harms herself, and there are moments that can be triggers for people that struggle with self harm. if you are one of those people, i strongly recommend not reading this story. if you still wish to do so, there will be trigger warnings before moments that are especially descriptive. they will be labeled with an asterisk at the beginning and at the end of those scenes. anything you would miss by skipping over them that is important will be described at the end of the chapter.
i do not condone or support self harm or eating disorders.
thank you for reading.
I can't breath and I can't smile
This better be worth my while
I feel numb most of the time
The lower I get the higher I'll climb
Numb -- Marina & The Diamonds
beautiful chapter image by tda's aconite!
“How are you feeling, Rainne?” he says.
It is always like this.
She grunts in response, studying the scratches on the wooden door that is her escape.
She wonders how they got there.
He shakes his head.
“You’re not helping yourself by being so stubborn, Rainne.”
Rainne rolls her eyes. She doesn’t care.
She turns her attention to the window. Sunlight leaks through the blinds. The straight lines of pure light end just beside her. She slides her hand along the leather sofa until she can feel the heat on her skin. She closes her eyes.
“I want to go outside,” she mutters.
The doctor grins. The doctor with the fancy PhD and the framed diploma and the family portrait and the notepad on his lap grins.
“Not just yet, Rainne.”
She is fuming.
“I need to see your wrist.”
Her eyes widen, then they are slits.
“I know you try to hide them with all of those bracelets,” he gestures to her arm, sprawled out on the couch, “It is obviously too hot for long sleeves. You’re not fooling anyone. You know the rules, Rainne. I need to see your wrist.”
Rainne is up and at the wooden door that is her escape in a matter of seconds.
He chuckles and pulls his wand out.
“I don’t need this,” she says through her teeth.
“Oh, but you know that you do.”
He is arrogant.
“Sit down, Rainne. The more you cooperate the easier this will be.”
She slumps into the sofa in defeat, arms crossed.
“That’s more like it.”
She hates him.
There is a pause.
“When was the last time you harmed yourself?” he finally asks.
Rainne is annoyed.
Rainne is more than annoyed.
She looks down at her left wrist and he raises his eyebrows, urging her to go on.
She slowly takes off the colourful, bright, happy bracelets one by one. The ones she wears when it’s hot. The ones she wishes described her.
She reveals a fresh cut. It hasn’t had time to scab over.
“This morning,” she spits out.
Rainne lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling.
She wishes she had friends.
She wishes she wasn’t herself.
She wishes she led a different life.
Before she knows it she is thumping down the stairs and snatching her keys from where they hang beside the front door.
“Where are you going?” her grandfather asks.
It is an innocent question. She has been in her room since she got home two weeks ago for summer holiday, except for her exhausting appointments.
She hardly turns, merely looking at his feet over her shoulder. She can’t meet his gaze.
“I’m going on a walk.”
He smiles after her. He wishes he could stop all the pain he can feel her emanating.
He knows how much she hates seeing doctors, but doesn’t know what else he can do to help her.
Rainne walks down the new, unfamiliar street.
The sound of laughter trickles into her ears. Children play and scream, running around the neighborhood from house to house. They are so free, Rainne notices.
She lights a cigarette and brings it to her lips, inhaling the sweet nicotine.
She wonders what life would be like if her parents were alive.
“Stupid muggles,” she mutters to herself.
If her parents had been wizards, they would have never been in that car in the first place, she thinks.
She sees her reflection in a puddle and stops, glaring at it.
“Mudblood,” she spits. The word is like venom flowing through her veins. She steps in her reflection and continues on.
“Excuse me?” says a stern voice.
Rainne is stunned. She was told this was a wizard free neighborhood. She can’t force herself to look up.
“What did you say to me?” the voice asks. Rainne recognizes that voice. The cigarette falls from her hands and she stamps on it before speaking.
“I... Y-y-y-y-y-y,” Rainne struggles, “Y-you didn’t h-h-hear the wh-whole thing.”
“Oh, really?” the voice’s owner crosses her arms and looks at Rainne expectantly.
“Y-y-yes. I said ‘I-I-I-I can’t b-b-elieve they c-c-called me a m-mudblood,” she looks up at Lily Evans. Rainne feels the anxiety taking over. It shuts her mouth as if using a silencing charm on her.
Lily stares at her, feeling embarrassed.
“Shit,” she says, “I’m so used to being called that, you know,” she fumbles over her words.
Rainne nods, trying to communicate that it is okay.
She then realizes that Lily doesn’t recognize her. The girl with the pretty red hair and the piercing green eyes and the bed next to hers at Hogwarts doesn’t recognize her.
She feels like she is drowning. She should have never left the house.
She wishes she hadn’t put out her cigarette.
Lily is still stumbling over what she is trying to say until she comes to a halt.
“Wait a second,” she says, eyeing Rainne, “I know for a fact that there are only two other wizard families living within like ten miles.”
Rainne struggles to find her voice.
She opens her mouth but the words don’t come out.
Lily just stares at her, thinking she looks like a fish out of water.
Raine exhales. She is exhausted.
Lily can tell she feels uncomfortable. She smiles, trying to be friendly.
“I’m Lily Evans,” she states, introducing herself.
Lily can see the pain in Rainne’s eyes and immediately regrets what she’s done.
Lily’s eyes flash with grief when she hears the name.
She knows of the crash.
Rainne pretends she hasn’t noticed, but she knows that Lily knows.
She doesn’t want pity, but fears she has no choice.
“Listen,” Lily says, “Do you know of the Potters?” she pauses long enough for Rainne to nod, “Well, their son, James, is having a pool party tomorrow. Would you like to come?” Rainne recognizes the tone in her voice. It is the voice a nurse uses when speaking to the daughter of two deceased parents. The voice of pity.
Rainne can’t speak. She seems uncertain.
“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind,” Lily adds.
Rainne nods sharply, staring at her feet.
She wants nothing more than for this conversation to end.
Lily gives her the address and bids her a farewell.
Rainne watches Lily turn the corner.
She runs home, gasping for air.
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