RP: Don't Do Sadness
Characters: Hannah Abbott
Date: 13th March 2000
Location: A Cemetery
Status/Warning: Private/angst
Summary: Hannah visits her mother's grave and opens up to the only person she still feels connected to.
Completion: Complete
"I still miss you. Every day. It's really-" Hannah let out a small sigh, wiping away a loose tear. She didn’t enjoy crying, she rarely let herself. Tears didn’t do anything to fix the past, did they?
She ran her fingers through the blades of grass, her train of thought gone. "Sometimes, I forget you're gone and when I remember again, it hits me all over again. It's like reliving the same nightmare over and over again."
She was cold, no, it was the air, like spirits were surrounding her. Cemeteries scared the crap out of her. Hannah had seen and experienced a lot of horrors in her life, but being here, it just made them all real.
Hannah buried her face in her knees, letting herself cry. It was too much sometimes. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. It would be sixth year and her mother would still be alive and her life would be normal and she’d be worrying about exams and boys and her future. What did she have now?
A shattered existence. No mother. A father that would kill himself with the drink before long. Battle scars that weren’t just on her skin, but in he heart, her memories, her dreams. The year with the Carrows still haunted her at night, those were the good nights. The worst were when Voldemort himself invaded them, or the image of her mother being murdered. She much preferred her own horrors to those images.
Hannah wiped her eyes, wishing she could let go of the past. But how could you let go, even with knowing that things could never be what they once were? Sure, you could rebuild, but it didn’t fix the hurts that were buried so deep, you’d never be able to heal them.
As hard as Hannah wanted to just move on, she couldn’t. Some part of her would always keep that pain front and center, as a reminder. Pain built character, after all. Lord knew she had enough of it.
And love? As much as she wanted to never let herself love again, it seemed easier said than done. Sure, at first, it’d been easy, keep everyone away, but she needed people, she wasn’t the type to be alone. Hannah feared experiencing great loss once more, it seemed all loving someone did was open you up to losing a piece of your soul when they were ripped away from you, but she was afraid of what she’d become without love.
Damn catch twenty-two.
“I guess I know what I have to do, don’t I?” She said aloud, to herself, not to her mother. Hannah ran her fingers lightly over the tombstone and stood, wiping away more tears, a new fear in her heart. Moving on.
Date: 13th March 2000
Location: A Cemetery
Status/Warning: Private/angst
Summary: Hannah visits her mother's grave and opens up to the only person she still feels connected to.
Completion: Complete
"I still miss you. Every day. It's really-" Hannah let out a small sigh, wiping away a loose tear. She didn’t enjoy crying, she rarely let herself. Tears didn’t do anything to fix the past, did they?
She ran her fingers through the blades of grass, her train of thought gone. "Sometimes, I forget you're gone and when I remember again, it hits me all over again. It's like reliving the same nightmare over and over again."
She was cold, no, it was the air, like spirits were surrounding her. Cemeteries scared the crap out of her. Hannah had seen and experienced a lot of horrors in her life, but being here, it just made them all real.
Hannah buried her face in her knees, letting herself cry. It was too much sometimes. She wanted to wake up from this nightmare. It would be sixth year and her mother would still be alive and her life would be normal and she’d be worrying about exams and boys and her future. What did she have now?
A shattered existence. No mother. A father that would kill himself with the drink before long. Battle scars that weren’t just on her skin, but in he heart, her memories, her dreams. The year with the Carrows still haunted her at night, those were the good nights. The worst were when Voldemort himself invaded them, or the image of her mother being murdered. She much preferred her own horrors to those images.
Hannah wiped her eyes, wishing she could let go of the past. But how could you let go, even with knowing that things could never be what they once were? Sure, you could rebuild, but it didn’t fix the hurts that were buried so deep, you’d never be able to heal them.
As hard as Hannah wanted to just move on, she couldn’t. Some part of her would always keep that pain front and center, as a reminder. Pain built character, after all. Lord knew she had enough of it.
And love? As much as she wanted to never let herself love again, it seemed easier said than done. Sure, at first, it’d been easy, keep everyone away, but she needed people, she wasn’t the type to be alone. Hannah feared experiencing great loss once more, it seemed all loving someone did was open you up to losing a piece of your soul when they were ripped away from you, but she was afraid of what she’d become without love.
Damn catch twenty-two.
“I guess I know what I have to do, don’t I?” She said aloud, to herself, not to her mother. Hannah ran her fingers lightly over the tombstone and stood, wiping away more tears, a new fear in her heart. Moving on.