too young to dream, {gray}

Let me forget about today until tomorrow.
- Mr. Tambourine Man, Bob Dylan

It was exactly midnight. And the Slytherin was there, sitting idly on the floor, the wind invisible, the coldness bearable, and the make-believe existence of happy endings unknown. She, Iris Jane Frances, the unwanted child, the broke, the once fragile and complicated, took into conclusion that history was about to repeat itself yet again. Surely, that day, that turn of night into day.

Minutes passed, her eyes were still fixed on one thing left by her foot, the clear vial of the potion. She made numb movements with her hands, tapping her knees about, and twice she glanced at the starry sky bellowing itself for her. But, she ignored its beauty. Nothing can be seen now, except for that liquid full of intoxicated desires and her own ending. Well, that is, for only a few nights.

The girl sighed, finally took the small glass, her mind flying past the reckless wanderings of hers, and popped the cork lid open. She touched the rim with her nose, sniffed the inside, and after she convinced herself that it was safe, drank all of its content in one single gulp. It was too late. She can probably die now.

Stiff on her position, Frances searched for that feeling, the feeling of dying. Still, it was too slow to come. She placed a hand on her stomach, sensing nothing but the growls of it wanting to be fed. She actually followed the instructions on not to eat anything two hours before bedtime, let alone not rushing back to the kitchens.

Alas, there it came, she knew she was wrong, too wrong to be corrected. She coughed, her lungs swelling, her heart palpitating, and her throat dry for thirst. She choked, and her eyes, those sunken eyes, started to see through the dark clouds of the abyss engulfing her within. It was too late. History is repeating itself.

And no one can save her now.

The night had always been one of Grayson's close acquaintances, never letting her down. With the mystery and dark secrets surrounding it, the lack of light around had provided a covering for the Gryffindor.

As she strolled the halls, she was not all too bothered about the fact that it was way past curfew and she should be in bed. Then again, she was never the one to follow the rules. And seeing as she only had two more years within these walls, why start to be a good girl now?

Reaching a set of stairs, she climbed her way upto the Astronomy tower, relishing the feeling of the cool wind against her skin. Her fingers absentmindedly stroked her Greek tattoo, and she felt a sense of comfort as the thoughts led her to think about her twin, and smiled softly.

However, the smile quickly faded, only to be replaced by worry and slight horror as she noticed the other inhabitant in the open space. No, it couldn't be...

Grayson quickly rushed over to the girl and placed her head in her lap, while shaking her not so gently.

"Eye, wake up! What the fuck happened?!" The Gryffindor began to shout, completely forgetting that no one could probably hear them. "Please wake up," she pleaded softly. "Don't you dare fucking leave me!"

Her best friend was in trouble once more.

They came. Flashes of thunder, no, those memories all in a blur, coming down fast, miles above her but she can no longer reach them. They were dawning upon her, haunting her, making her feel desperate. Needless to say, scared. There they were, those joyous dreams, those fights, those blood, the white walls circling her within the boundaries of hell, everything she needed to throw away. And to say that they were all part of her reality once, they too in her visions of sleep. They are everywhere, in her dreams, in her real existence. They can never leave her.

She saw them, the butterbeer moments at the Three Broomsticks, the ones that took place by the Enchanted Lake, meals at the Great Hall, Flying lessons, getting reprimanded just by eating chocolate frogs and doing homeworks for Charms, Transfiguration with those cats who hadn't got the chance for survival, her accomplishment in Defense Against The Dark Arts, meetings with Passion Rose, professors disappearing, and not the least, the train rides and who could ever forget, apprenticeship encounters with her mentor. Those endless laughter, smiles, bright days, were all coming back to her, when she thought of them as long gone to be remembered.

Maybe, perhaps, this was the effect after all. To let her die in the arms of the known, with the rush of emotions too big to bear, her other senses unable to work, to hear the mourning sounds, the voice, of one being right there to watch her leave. Is it really called leaving? So suddenly? Why?

This way of dying, in her sleep, can be the most heavenly, the easiest way to die. And for once, Death is all but unwell, all but unwelcome to her soul.


[ooc: oh merlin, the feels!!!! ]

Grayson knew that the last time she felt such a tightening in her chest was either when she was with Kait or when Hades broke up with her. But the current condition of her heart seemed to be just that, only magnified to a higher version, as she held her best friend in her arms. She did not want to panic, she would not, that was not her style, but Merlin was she tempted to.

The Gryffindor was nearly ready to scream how much of a bitch life was being. Right after getting Eye back, 'fate' was getting prepared to take her away again. As she picked up the small glass lying next to the Slytherin, she felt a surge of anger towards Eye, for attempting to end her life.

Or at least, that's what it looked like. Grayson hugged the girl tightly, not wanting to let go, "You fucking do not get to go the better place just yet Frances," she growled under her breath.

Knowing that her best friend had to be taken to the hospital, the Greek girl picked her up and carried her down the stairs, just about ready to go wake her Head of House and have them taken to St.Mungos.

ooc: the feeeeeels indeed! D:

I'm not dead. I can't be dead. I will never be. I can live.

The words inside her mind were just faint screams, shouts, fading echoes in search for mountains to collide with. And with the words, the endless images still came, one by one, all in a blur. But for her, they were clear as the crystal waters, as the sky is, the moon and stars are. Is this what they meant as happily ever after? Does it exist after all? Sure it was no pain at all to take in the temporary sensation of death, no pain to be cast aside with the world, but a pain so deep to be unsure of her fate. Even now, doubt still is overwhelming.

Was she meant to die just by one single potion that was supposed to make her live again? Was she that desperate enough to face the unknown? Or had she known at all?


[ooc: and i recalled all of that inside my head! oh nooooo!]