Post by mely on May 15, 2008 20:40:13 GMT
a face contorted in pain, reaching out with pleading, tortured eyes. cloaks swished, in tune to jeering voices.. 'blood traitor... muggle scum'. A small girl is rooted to the spot, transifixed in horror. Terrorfied eyes move, just a fraction, staring at the bodies slumped in the corner, then back to the women's broken form. She's crouched down, unable to stand with pain, and what she says, she says with her eyes, 'help me...'
the girl cannot move, not even to indicate she has heard the plea. Her breath quickens with terror, and her heart thuds louder. She struggles against the blcok in her mind, the wall between her and the conscious world. Her head pounds, as if she is hammering against it, desperately trying to force her material body to move, do something, anything. She is so motionless, those around her barely notice her. But she notices them. She watches with mounting panic as they raise they wands again, and she braces herself for what she knows will come next, at the same time searching for a way out. She no longer cares about anything but escape, getting away from this place, this horrible, unbearable sight of pain. The bodies are barely a metre away, and she can't help but imagine herself as one of them, slumped over, lifeless, limbs twisted sickeningly. Then she looks back to the figure in front of her, who is still alive, and knows that to die is to escape, it is freedom not punishment. She finds herself forced to watch the figure, forced to see her pain, forced to hold her breath as the wands are raised, praying it will be for the last time -
Kyli woke, gagging. Her head reeled, and she felt sick rising in her throat, stinging painfully. She gasped for breath finding herself entrapped in a sheet, that was wrapped, suffocatingly tight, around her stomach, her ribs, her neck. SHe fights her way out of it, and raises herself, unsteadily, clinging on desperately to the headrest for support. The dark wood is comforting somehow, and she leans back against it, allowing her vision to settle, waiting for something tangible in the blur. the galss on her bedside has broken, presumably against the wall since that is the direction the galss has fallen in. She notices a smear of blood of the back of her hand, and wipes it away hurriedly. Then she kicks off the sheet, and lies er head back against the pillow. There is nothing waiting for her but more sleep.
'has she said anything yet?'
'nope. crying over her sister ever since we arrived'
'can't blame her. poor kid'
'it's terrible...'
'any idea what happened?'
'people have their suspicions... seems she was the only one here when it happened though. Quintus arrived a few moments after'
'ah... Quintus'
'he's being mighty helpful with the investigation'
'indeed'
the girl cannot move, not even to indicate she has heard the plea. Her breath quickens with terror, and her heart thuds louder. She struggles against the blcok in her mind, the wall between her and the conscious world. Her head pounds, as if she is hammering against it, desperately trying to force her material body to move, do something, anything. She is so motionless, those around her barely notice her. But she notices them. She watches with mounting panic as they raise they wands again, and she braces herself for what she knows will come next, at the same time searching for a way out. She no longer cares about anything but escape, getting away from this place, this horrible, unbearable sight of pain. The bodies are barely a metre away, and she can't help but imagine herself as one of them, slumped over, lifeless, limbs twisted sickeningly. Then she looks back to the figure in front of her, who is still alive, and knows that to die is to escape, it is freedom not punishment. She finds herself forced to watch the figure, forced to see her pain, forced to hold her breath as the wands are raised, praying it will be for the last time -
Kyli woke, gagging. Her head reeled, and she felt sick rising in her throat, stinging painfully. She gasped for breath finding herself entrapped in a sheet, that was wrapped, suffocatingly tight, around her stomach, her ribs, her neck. SHe fights her way out of it, and raises herself, unsteadily, clinging on desperately to the headrest for support. The dark wood is comforting somehow, and she leans back against it, allowing her vision to settle, waiting for something tangible in the blur. the galss on her bedside has broken, presumably against the wall since that is the direction the galss has fallen in. She notices a smear of blood of the back of her hand, and wipes it away hurriedly. Then she kicks off the sheet, and lies er head back against the pillow. There is nothing waiting for her but more sleep.
'has she said anything yet?'
'nope. crying over her sister ever since we arrived'
'can't blame her. poor kid'
'it's terrible...'
'any idea what happened?'
'people have their suspicions... seems she was the only one here when it happened though. Quintus arrived a few moments after'
'ah... Quintus'
'he's being mighty helpful with the investigation'
'indeed'
