Harry Potter | Draco
Title: Empty
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 273
originally posted here
Your hand is still on the door-handle but your tears already start to fall.
Finally alone. In the comforting silence of your room. Your sanctuary.
Funny, how you feel less lonely when you are alone.
Out there you have to live their reality. You have to live the life they want you to live. A life you hate. With them you know that something is missing.
But here in your room you find another reality. Your own. You can see it, hear it, smell it, touch it, taste it. It’s yours. Fake memories surround you. You like it here.
But the transition hurts. Because you are too conscious of the process. You know that by wanting to escape the lies and masks of your life you create new ones.
But you can’t change it. It’s a drug. You can’t let go of the small fake joys your fantasy gives you, even if you know that all this slowly consumes you.
You know you should give it up.
You know it just makes matters worse.
But it’s too late.
You can’t live without your fake world anymore.
Your whole being is a lie.
Your faces different shades of fantasy.
You only really exist in your tears.
In the door, where your lies meet - that’s you.
With one hand on the door-handle and the other over your open mouth to muffle your loud sobs - this is the real you.
Hence the pain.
It hurts to be yourself, to put down the masks.
It’s terrifying.
Because you see.
You see everything too clearly.
But you choose darkness, wipe off your tears and embrace your hollow lies…
Fandom: Harry Potter
Character: Draco
Rating: PG
Word Count: 273
originally posted here
Your hand is still on the door-handle but your tears already start to fall.
Finally alone. In the comforting silence of your room. Your sanctuary.
Funny, how you feel less lonely when you are alone.
Out there you have to live their reality. You have to live the life they want you to live. A life you hate. With them you know that something is missing.
But here in your room you find another reality. Your own. You can see it, hear it, smell it, touch it, taste it. It’s yours. Fake memories surround you. You like it here.
But the transition hurts. Because you are too conscious of the process. You know that by wanting to escape the lies and masks of your life you create new ones.
But you can’t change it. It’s a drug. You can’t let go of the small fake joys your fantasy gives you, even if you know that all this slowly consumes you.
You know you should give it up.
You know it just makes matters worse.
But it’s too late.
You can’t live without your fake world anymore.
Your whole being is a lie.
Your faces different shades of fantasy.
You only really exist in your tears.
In the door, where your lies meet - that’s you.
With one hand on the door-handle and the other over your open mouth to muffle your loud sobs - this is the real you.
Hence the pain.
It hurts to be yourself, to put down the masks.
It’s terrifying.
Because you see.
You see everything too clearly.
But you choose darkness, wipe off your tears and embrace your hollow lies…