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March 1, 2010 The End
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On February 25th, Monique Lascivious' life was claimed. Claimed by a person amongst the others. Though her death was believed to be sudden and natural, it was in fact, not.
The girl who survived through numerous near death experiences at last found her match, and is never to return again.
Everything that had been worked up for, has now vanished.
And for the first time, she is now granted peace.
The End.
Though her story has ended, she has in fact, begun another.
February 9, 2010 Starting at the Source
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It's different. A good different I suppose. Despite the things that has happened, with the things that had happened at Will's house, (no it's not like that, I swear!) and discovering who my true father is, and what Delano's true motive was, somehow, I'm still alright. It's odd. And in all honesty, there isn't much to speak of in this entry. It's as if I started anew. I can't even put words to describe myself.
Frankly, there's only one thing I've yet to understand: how I got so far. I guess it's because of everyone who was there. Mom, if only you were here to meet them all. Maybe this is finally the end of it all. Where at last all my fears and struggles will finally disappear, never to return. I can only hope I suppose. And prepare myself for if it all comes back to haunt me.
There's so many things I need to catch up on. Everyone else had moved on long ago, and I've only barely came back. And can you believe it? It's only a few more weeks, 'til your death anniversary Mother. The day that started it all. Your death. The Delanos. All of it. But I won't be grieving. At least, I plan not to. I'm going to finally hold myself together, and spend at least a part of my time to greet hello to you.
I miss you Mom.
She stared at the words written on the pages of the book, heaving a sigh. Finished, and satisfied with what she had wrote, she closes her diary, spotting the image of her mother taped to the wooden mahogany desk, grinning back at her with those wise motherly eyes. She thought for a moment to herself, and smiled to herself, tucking the journal that had locked up her nightmares away into the drawer.
January 24, 2010 Starting at the Source
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Get up and go
Take a chance and be strong
You can spend your whole life holding on
Don’t look back just go
Take a breath and move along
She ran to her dorm and gathered her things without hesitation. She made sure to pack only the things that were necessary to her. No, she was not running from her fears again. This was different. She was running towards her fears, back to where it had all started. She didn't know how long she'd be there, in that forest. The only way to overcome her fear, was to face it head on. Surely this was a stupid idea, venturing out into the forest in the middle of winter. She had food that would last for a few good three days, and clothing that would keep her warm in the snow.
So she went, her footsteps embedding themselves onto the snow, marking her path. She came to a halt before the forest and looked in, swallowing. Holding her breath she stepped into the woods, and already the eerie atmosphere began to take a toll on her. The strong urge to return back to the safety of her dorm was nagging her from the back of her mind, but she pushed it away, quickening her pace.
And there it was. The cave. Though, another emotion filled her. It wasn't fear, terror, horror nor disgust. Not even hate. The bag slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, as she covered her mouth to muffle a moan. Tears slipped out of her eyes. She didn't bother hiding them, for there was no one to hide it from. She looked into the darkness, and see just barely of the broken remnants that reminded her of what had happened. As the tears rolled down her cheeks she took the first step into the shadows, hearing nothing but the silence.
Her hands ran along the edges of the cave, feeling the textures of the hard cool rock against her skin. She managed to regain control of her emotions, she was, oddly, natural. Everything that reminded her of the time, was another reassurance that it was all in the past and over. Evening was coming, and the cave was darkening to a pitch black. Just when she thought she was alone however, there was a voice. A whisper. A familiar whisper that called her name. Monique's senses flared and became alert as her eyes darted around the darkness for the source of the voice.
Then it appeared. Diane Lascivious in her faint and translucent form. Even in the shadows, Monique managed to see the contours of her face, and the smile that crossed it once their eyes met.
"Missed me?" It asked, with her arms spread wide. Her daughter made her way towards her, a weak smile as it attempted to embrace her mother into a hug. But instead, her arms came in contract only with the cool air, and the ghostly form went through her. Monique's smile faded as she turned around to her mother. "It's been a while hasn't it?" the mother said, chuckling. Monique was rendered speechless as she looked at her. "Smile. What's the matter?" She instructed, her own smile widening. The daughter smiled faintly, still not understanding what is happening. "They're dead Monique. For good. Shouldn't you be happy?" She asked, the grin still upon her face. "You look so broken. Why? You're surrounded by many that love you and care for you. Yet you're still saddened by what had happened. Your father worries over you greatly. He hasn't slept because of you." She said quietly, her smile fading. "I worry about you."
Just when Monique opened her mouth to speak, the apparition faded into nothing.
And that's when she woke up, her cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.
January 21, 2010 Smile
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My life will change.
For the better.
Because this time, I'm taking control.
It'll start off with a smile. Whether it be fake or genuine, I'll still smile. I've had enough being caught up in my misery. Everyone else is moving on. Why can't I?
Then I'll laugh. That's what I'll do. I'll laugh. It's been a while since I've laughed. That is, where I actually laughed, the whole thought of Delano in the back of my mind being non-existent.
He's gone. He's not going to play with my mind anymore. I can do this. This isn't something can be fixed, nor repaired, for I'm throwing my past away and beginning anew.
It'll be rough, for I still think of them. Their voices. Their actions. Their words. Their touch. I'll remember.
But those nightmares won't dictate my life.
She closed her diary, heaving a sigh as she put it aside. The words she had written seemed real. She does want to change. It was evident that everyone was getting slightly frustrated with her, tired with her never-ending troubles. She had to stop complaining and regain the pieces of her life. She had to start somewhere, so she got up and walked down the halls of Hogwarts, searching for the room she's always had tried to avoid.
"Oh, Miss Lascivious. I had not seen you there." the woman stated, rising to her feet from behind the desk. The room was small, cramped and cluttered. It had been purposely made as a storage room, though there were no rooms left available in the castle. "Has something come up?" She questioned with concern. It was her job to be or at least act worried about her. It was also her job to bare Monique's troubles at appointed hours.
"Uhm, I..." Monique began, stepping into the room and taking a seat in front of her desk.
"Now, if you're regarding about the facility, do take into consideration that we highly recommend it." She stated, sitting back down onto her chair.
"I don't think it'll be necessary though." Monique replied, clearing her throat. She raised her voice to keep it over a whisper, her hand curling into a fist as she tried to gain control over herself.
"Sweetie, with your circumstances, we urge you to go whether you like it or not, I'm afraid." She spoke gently, smiling slightly.
"But I'm better. I mean, I'm getting better." Monique said in her defense.
"Yes, I see. You're making improvements. At least your mind can understand the fact it's wanting to get better. But is actually?" She opened the drawers, before shooting a quick glance at her. "Are you sure you're getting better?"
"I'm positive. Delano is a thing of a past." She spoke firmly. She was slightly taken aback by herself, for she now been able to say their name without hesitation nor with disturbing images flashing through her mind. The woman pulled out moving photographs, what had seemed to be taken months ago. Photos that were taken by the brothers themselves. And at that instant, Monique felt it again. The pain. The voices. The whispers that'd flood into her mind. Seeing the discomfort on her face, the woman put it away, letting out a sigh. She looked back up to find Monique, only to see the spot in which she was sitting in, vacant.
January 4, 2010 Haunting
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He stands there in the shadows of my mind, watching and waiting. On occasion he speaks to me. His oh so familiar voice running chills up my spine. Not only goes he appear in my nightmares, but also in reality as well. His eyes burn with dark hatred, wanting to show no mercy. He never leaves me. He may be silent at times but he remains in my presence. It is overwhelming. The thoughts, the sights, and everything he brings to the table. I fear I shall not find peace.
The difference between reality and. Living nightmare is that reality has yet to change. Every decision we make reflects the outcome. With a nightmare, however, you have no control with what goes on.
"Mr. Lascivious, we heard about the traumatic events that has affected your family. But your daughter here has been quite disruptive the past nights. We have complaints from students of screams coming from her. According to her dorm mates, and I myself, she can be quite uncontrollable. At times she shrieks the name of the Delano boys. On behalf of the students, we need Monique to stop. And as well, we worry about her." stated Professor McGonagall. Mr. Lascivious paced across the room, shaking his head every so often. "I'll be blunt Dwayne. Your daughter needs help."
*
"How is she?" her father questioned the therapist with worry written on his face.
"Shes ver disturbed after what she had endured. She's suffering under trauma, and it's absolutely natural for her. However, her case is much more severe. She struggles coping with the thoughts of Delano or anything related to them." the woman replied. "Fortunately, she found a way to deal with them." Dwayne heaved a sigh of relief. "And it's what worries me the most. Were you aware that your daughter in her past inflicted pain upon herself? Have you noticed the scars that were on her arms?" The father's face fell.
"How long in the past?" he questioned.
"According to her confession, almost more than a year ago. And before her Mother's death. You see, it seems the only way she can erase the Delanos from her consciousness, for at least temporarily, is by self affliction. She hasn't admitted to it yet, and I say we should not push her. The only reason I found out was due to the fresh scars on her forearm. If her imagination fully takes over here, I fear she shall resort to suicidal itself to escape her fears."
Dwayne stared at her speechlessly, before glancing out the window to see her daughter sitting on a wooden bench under a tree.
December 20, 2009 Messages
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Dear my beloved daughter,
When you receive this letter, it would have meant that I had been murdered. Know that I would never want to leave you alone in the world. After Mother’s death, I saw how miserable you were from the way you ignored my messages and the looks on your face. I would never want to dream of myself not being there for you, anymore. However, that day has come. I had always wished that this day would never cease to exist. And now, being gone, it is come to the time to explain to you what I had not been able to do.
Years ago, when you were a mere child, still oblivious to the dangers of the world, your Mother and I had difficult financial troubles. It was a struggle each day to place a decent meal on the table. It had been a harsh winter until we met the two brothers, Braeden and Demetrius Delano. Demetrius was much older and matured than his younger and troublesome brother. Braeden had a problem with coping with his problems, such as his alcoholic habit. Demetrius knew me through friends, and in fact, in the past, we both were quite close friends. He had heard that I was able to create a potion which would not entirely stop the habit, but had a good chance of putting his craving away for a while. I took this opportunity to make a deal with him. In exchange for this recipe, it was required that he pay the whole cash fee, And so he did. The whole lot of it. And that’s when we ran. Out of city and towns and all the way to the other side of the county. We disappeared off the face of the earth.
We hadn’t heard from them since. I don’t even know if they tried looking for us at all. However, they had discovered where they were few months before your Mother died. Mother had not died from cancer. She had in fact been murdered as well, poisoned to be specific. I had intercepted the letters from the Hospital and even spoke with the staff to deceive you. I was for your own good. I hadn’t wanted you to worry over this. I knew how angry you would have gotten, and I feared you would do something rash, such as avenge for your Mother. When you got in that life threatening car accident, your name spread all across the newspapers, especially when you miraculously lived. Fate was not on our side, for Demetrius had acquired a copy. He knew you’d be at Hogwarts, completing your education. The Delano brothers are known for their notorious illegal activities caused by anger. In other words, if you made them furious, you’re dead. He wanted you to be included in his plan, to get me to pay him back. And not using wealth itself, but with my own life.
The two plotted in the shadows as I searched night and day for the two. But they had gotten to you first. When Braeden first locked eyes with you, he knew. Demetrius had been much more intellectual and professional with his doings, but Braeden was the brute force behind it. He knew the victims both in and out, and was much more physical and drastic with his tactics. You see Monique, what they do is they use the people who we keep dearly to our hearts to their advantages. They’re coming after you next Monique. And it’s all because of me. Don’t let them get you. My death was not a waste. Yoũ’re most likely confused but remember one thing. Instead Monique, always learn incantations & verbal enchantments.
Love,
Dad
___________________________________________________
Monique,
I’d like to finally meet again, in person. The address is enclosed in this message. Let’s make this easy shall we? Come and surrender yourself, and you may even be spared your life. If you fail to cooperate, then say good bye to that Will Myatt, and his family. What a pity, that Kezzie child dying because of your father. You’ve only got a few days. I’m watching you. Tell anyone of this, and you all die.
Is a name really necessary? You should know me.
PS. Merry Christmas.
December 13, 2009 The Return
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I was drawn to write something in my diary tonight. However, for once in my life there isn’t anything specific to talk about. It’s quite a change, mind you. Just by looking at the previous entries and reminiscing on the past, my life seemed to have been filled with all sorts of events and tragedies. But this week is different. In a good way? I suppose so. It’s been quiet and filled with numerous cups of hot chocolate. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a decent sleep and meal. Diary, you do not know how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep, or stayed awake, paranoid that Death is lurking in the shadows. Reality was a terrible nightmare, and I was so utterly afraid it’d also too slip into my dreams.
It’s father’s funeral next Monday. And I’ve yet to create a speech in his name. I regret so many years I had with him. My father and I had never truly been close. He was there when he was. Ever since I was a child I grown to see him late at night in his home office signing stacks of parchments. His work had followed him everywhere. I hadn’t minded, for he was yet to balance his work with his leisure time. Of course, I knew too well that my family hadn’t been financially successful in the beginning.
Few years later, my father had the biggest break in his career. Not only was he promoted, but he too received much more money than he usually did when he returned home. My mother was in completely awe at first, and did not hesitate with purchasing her dream waterfront residence. Years followed, and we grew apart. I moved to Hogwarts, and we all started separate lives.
They’ve always been there for me, motivating and urging me to get back in line. I must admit, the Monique I had been in the past, is unlike whom I am today. She’s become forgotten, a thing of the past. It’s almost as if I had been resurrected.
The end has come. And it is time to begin anew.
Christmas Part II
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Monique’s father murmured in their living room, giving a sympathetic look to his wife.
“Hun, you know how much they look forward to it. What will we say when they’ve got no gift in their stockings?” Diane replied, her mouth pulled down in a disappointed frown.
“They’ve just got to understand that we can’t. I know how much you love Christmas, but what’s more important? New presents or food on the table?” He asked quietly. Diane sat closely to him, resting her head onto his shoulder.
“They’ll be so let down.” She murmured. “You should have seen Monique’s face at that magical creature store.” Letting out a quiet laugh, she looked blankly ahead. “She was looking so forward to it. Sometimes I believe she favours Christmas over her own birthday.” Dwayne smiled at this, chuckling at the thought of his daughter.
“You know, she reminds me of you sometimes. Her love for Christmas comes from you.” He stated, laying a sweet kiss on her forehead. At that moment Monique let out a wince, gradually making her way down the stairs. She clung to the railing for support, taking each movement with an awkward step. Her mother turned and glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw her daughter. As Monique set foot onto the floor, the six year old child sprinted towards her parents and crawled onto their laps.
“Mommy, Daddy, is Santa coming this year?” She questioned anticipation and hope gleaming in her eyes. Her father heaved a sigh, and forced a smile.
“Sweetie, Santa got sick this year.” He explained, forcing out a terrible lie. His wife shot him a look, clearing her throat. Monique stared at her parents, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Does that mean I still get my Christmas wish?” She asked, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. She handed it to her parents, tears building up in her eyes. It wasn’t much of a letter to Santa, but more like a drawing. It depicted Santa holding what seems to be some unknown figure, which her mother assumed was the creature, giving it to a stick version of herself.
“We’re sorry.” Her father murmured. It broke their hearts, knowing that they were the cause for taking away Monique’s hopes.
December 13, 2009 The Return
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I never believe a word that comes out of Devious’ damned mouth. Truly I don’t. But a few days ago, what she said, I couldn’t help myself. Deep inside of me has the urge of blaming Will for the death of my father. It’s still a small spark, barely noticeable even, but it still bothers me that it exists. I don’t want to feel the pain of knowing that my father’s murder could have been avoided if Will didn’t kill Braeden. I don’t want to claim him responsible for anything even though Devious claimed many convincing details. When I do think of these things, blaming him and all, I just want to turn my back to him. I know it’s wrong. However, I just need to clear my mind. Just when I was starting to get over things, Devious had to show up. My mind is jumbled up all over the place. My biggest fear is losing what Will and I have, just over my father’s death and the Delano case. I’ve lost so many people I’ve loved this past year, and Will is pretty much all I’ve got left.
Maybe it’s just the anger that’s been building up the past weeks. I’ve grieved so much over my father’s death I completely ignored the resentment I had to the murderer. And now I’m just venting it out on Will. Every time I try to forget about things, the topic is once again brought up, and I once again relive through the moment. I need to take a break. But the last time I said that, all it did was made me meet Braeden Delano.
To be honest, I don’t know what to do. Ignore Devious? As much as I try, she’s always there. Maybe I should try talking to Will again. However the last time I did words I hadn’t meant to say flowed out without thought. I didn’t mean to be as harsh as I was. I’ll probably end up screwing up next time I see him.
I’ve come to a conclusion, my life is doomed.
What’s the point really? Now that I think of it. We go through so much in our lives, and for what? Nothing. We end up dying in the end. I don’t get it. I’m tired of having to go through the struggle and misery.
If Will hadn’t killed Braeden, what would have happened? Would I be here where I am today? Would I have died? Would my father still be alive? So many questions, and barely any answers.
Time will tell.
x. Monique Lascivious
December 4, 2009 Reminiscence
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March 2009
I still remember what you looked like on your death bed. So frail and hopeless, your eyes drained of their shine. You looked at me, mustering the strength you had left from those sleepless nights. It pained you to be seen this way, so useless and weak. We denied the inevitable truth, as if it’d somehow help and miraculously cure you of your cancer.
It looked so easy for you; just laying there and knowing the unfortunately fate that was to come to you. I never did see you cry. When I talked to you, it always broke something inside of me to see you in such agony. I did not shed a tear in your presence. I remember how much you hated to see me in tears. That’s why I couldn’t be with you long.
I know I don’t deserve such a caring mother like you. Ever since I was a child, I took you two, my parents, for granted. I expected you to have everything for me, even when there was barely anything to feed us each day.
I remember that letter. The one both the doctors and your nurse wrote me, breaking the news of your passing. I still never got over your death you know. To be honest, I regretted leaving your side. I should have been there, as you would have done so if it had been me. I can’t express how sorry I am.
But today I realize I can’t sulk my entire life and think of more regrets to put me down. I’ll still grieve at the thought of you, I know that. However, I’ll live more in the moment, looking into the future you and father had worked up to give me.
I don’t know what the future has in store, whether I’d be the same person as I am today. But tomorrow is my future, and I’ll live one day at a time. As I recount on those memories of hardships and laughter, I’ll remember you both forever.
Rest in Peace.
November 25, 2009 Christmas
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“Mum! Can I have that, can I have that?” A smaller, six year old version of Monique asked, tugging on her Mother’s robe as they walked down the aisle. She tip toed, struggling to reach the foreign creature which was still in its cage, on the shelf. None of the other more simple pets intrigued her as much as this one did. The puppies were very adorable, she agreed. However that animal, which seemed to look as if a phoenix and a dragon came together, was the one she had been eyeing for.
Diane turned on her heel, following her daughter’s gaze. “Monique! Don’t do that! You’ll break something!” She shrieked as she pulled her daughter with great difficulty away from the merchandise.
“But Mommy! Please! I want it!” She pleaded, glaring up at her mother. Diane dropped to her knees, looking at her child in the eyes.
“Sweetie, look, Mommy really does want to buy it for you, but, she can’t okay?” She explained, trying to keep her daughter in control. But typically, Monique didn’t understand and threw a fit, running away from the grasp of her mother and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Diane rose to her feet, her expression remaining peaceful. She had indeed seen it coming, and took a deep breath after chasing after her. Wizards and witches stopped amongst their shopping to stare at the chaos.
“Mommy is mean! Mommy is mean!” Monique exclaimed, weaving through the crowds. Her mother received suspicious glares, and it was when her daughter tripped over her own feet was Diane able to take hold of her once more.
“Look, I’ll get it for you okay? We have to go home.”Her daughter gave her a hopefully look.
“Then we’ll get it?” Her eyes grew with anticipation, and it broke her mother’s heart. It had been a cold winter, both physically and financially. She didn’t know how she would break it to her that Christmas this year may not even happen.
“Yes. Yes, after father comes home.” She lied hesitantly.
“Mommy, I love you.” Monique replied thankfully with a wide childish grin.
“I love you too, sweetie.” She murmured, the guilt settling in her gut.
Dear Diary,
I am writing this from the Slytherin Common Room, overlooking the beautiful scenery just out of my window. Frost frames the glass, the tiny crystals glistening against the candlelight. Since it is only just early morning, the sun is still gradually rising from the horizon. But even though, the thick blanket of snow on the ground is still able to reflect its light. Faded remains of footprints lie in the area, recollecting back the memories of the time in the snow. The Lake, once always moving, is now motionless and frozen, its ice slowly accumulating with snow.
But I wasn’t here to describe what I was seeing. No diary, on the contrary, I was here to express myself. Whether I should be happy or not, I do not know.
You see, I knew I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. You see, he has this odd ability that he probably doesn’t even know of. When I try to forget about him, and leave him and all, he manages to get in my head, and yet draw me towards him. No matter what I say or how much distance I create between us, he manages to remain in my life. But, I’ve got him back now, and I suppose it’s all that matters. Of course I’m glad, for once in a long time have I been able to laugh and smile. Though from my experience I’ve learned that happiness never lasts...
Christmas was one of the most special holidays of my life. Every year I’d look forward to putting up the Christmas tree, and hanging the stockings. And those childhood memories would fill my heart with delight. It was a part of the year where only one thing mattered, the present moment. The sense of being with the ones who you love, and forgetting about everything for a moment. The warmth from the fireplaces, the laughter from the family, the exchanging of gifts and thanks, all of it was very special to me. I can’t even stress how important that day was for me. But it’s come to my realization, that this would be the very first Christmas without them.
Never would I ever hear their laughter, or see my mother stress over the gifts. With their passing, they too took along the Christmas spirit with them. Who’s going to put up the Christmas tree? Raise the lights onto the front of the house in a way to make the neighbours jealous? But that’s not the point.
Christmas won’t be the same. The joy on children’s faces, when you surprise them with gifts, it’ll never have the same effect as it had before. Sneaking behind the trees, hitting unsuspecting victims with snowballs, still not the same.
Everyone gets to go home, celebrate the holiday with their loved ones. Some even take it for granted. Then along the picture, I come in. Unlike them, I’ll be staying at Hogwarts, laying in the snow and waiting for death to take me along with it.
I’ve drawn myself to one conclusion. This Christmas, will be a lonely and terrible time of year.
Merry Christmas,
Monique Lascivious
November 14, 2009 The Beginning of an End
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“If we didn’t have terrible moments in life, we wouldn’t cherish the good ones as much.”
Every moment of my life, every second, and breath I took, there was always death waiting. I could sense its presence. And now, I’ve never felt more alone in the world. My mother’s death was indeed a tragedy, one that I have yet to overcome. But still, as much as I grieved, I knew a few people were there supporting me along the way. However now, Mom’s gone, Dad’s gone, and even Will, the one who had been there the entire time, he’s gone.
Each tear I shed, a part of me slipped away. I had spent months, piecing myself together, slowly rearranging the fragments of my soul that shattered under the cruel grasp or misery. However, it only took news—merely words put together—to break it all apart.
I had been in denial, not accepting the truth that my father had died. I didn’t want to go through what I had when my Mom left. I was afraid. I strongly had believed that my father was still alive, and was even reassured by Will. Of all people, Will had to deceive me, going far to as disguising as my own father.
It broke my heart.
I was enraged, mislead and felt betrayed by the person who I had loved the most. I love him. I still do. Yet what he did, I can’t yet come to forgive. It agonizes me greatly, enough to drive me to the edge. I couldn’t take it anymore. The lies, the pain, the losses... I ended it. Do I regret it? Maybe. Maybe not. And it upsets me knowing I’m without him now. We’ve been through more than the average life of a human, and survived the unimaginable. But I had at last given up. My heart was in no position to endure anything more. He had been the reason why I woke up every morning, looking forward to the day instead of escaping the reality which I had tried oh so many times in the past. But with nothing left, what now?
Three Strikes, And You’re Out,
Monique Lascivious
____________________
Dear Father,
When Mom left, I wrote her a letter. And it only seemed fitting that I had done the same for you.
To be honest, I don’t know where to begin. There’s so much to say. So many things I’d like to apologize for and tell you. It always seem to be the case, considering I’m speaking to a person has the unlikeliest chance to read this. It pains me to write this, my writing barely legible due to the quivering of my arm.
Father, send my greetings to Mother. It must be to your delight that you are once at last reunited with her for all eternity. I know it was what you wanted. I guess I shouldn’t be complaining; it was for the best after all. I miss you both, and never shall I forget you.
Maybe, within time, we’ll soon to be together as one.
Love,
Your Daughter
P.S. I apologize for it being too short, let alone how hard it must be reading through the smudged ink.
November 2, 2009 Defeat
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Sometimes all we need in the darkest areas of life is a dream; a dream in which to inspire and motivate oneself. To ignite that once burning flame that illuminated from within. But when even the dark and light aren’t present, it’s nearly impossible to find your way. What is left is simply nothing.
I haven’t quite understood much of what is happening at the present moment. Various events have taken place, that no longer am I able to keep up. For now, I remain behind the Ministry’s walls, tucked in the corner of the hallway with dried up tears of defeat on my cheeks.
No, I can’t say I’m surprised. I was expecting my father to react sooner or later. I had just hoped that time would have never come. Though, it was inevitable, and moment he would be forced to take action. If there was one person in the world who I was afraid of, I have to admit, it’d be my own father. It’s him in which my life and fate usually lies and depends on. He had been the menacing wall, protecting me ever since birth and toughening me up for the harsh and cruel reality, for it was my father, who I could both hate with pure resentment, and yet love him dearly despite the disagreements. I oppose of his choice, naturally, though what worries me is how I would be able to make him understand that Hogwarts is my home.
Never once had I been successful in persuading him otherwise. He managed to always find a way to have his own way. Whatever I said, and no matter how many childish tantrums I threw, somehow, I’ve failed. No matter how much courage, will power and motivation I mustered, he continued to end victorious. I had tried. I had tried. I had tried. And I am still trying yet not succeeding, the more I attempt, the more I fall behind. He’s already ahead of the game, it had been officially set, and I am to depart within a few days according to the written paperwork. My belongings are waiting, gradually accumulating dust in my abandoned room which I had left years ago.
But what hurts the most is that I have to leave it all, completely. I’ve been forbidden after the trial to converse with Hogwarts students, including Will whom has not been in great terms with my father so far. My father even went to great lengths to hire men to make sure I complied, and if I hadn’t, I’d be on a one way ticket across the world. I’d be caught off from their worlds, forced to live a separate life as if they had not existed. What would happen to them? What would happen to me? What would happen to Will and I? It pains me to imagine living on without him.
And here I sit, alone in the shadows, pouring my thoughts in the book that had been there from the start.
Defeated,
Monique Lascivious
October 13, 2009 The Cataclysm
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This is how it must have felt when I had left, the heavy pull of the stomach, the burning emptiness within and the indescribable pain of the heart. It agonizes me that the bitter truth is that there is nothing I can do to bring him back. They’re absolutely right. I cannot run out, do something rash and expect to find him, and we’d all live happily ever after. (I’m suing whoever made up that concept of a happily ever after, by the way.) It just doesn’t happen this way. But this emotion of helplessness makes me turn restless. In the night I can’t help wonder what is running through his head at the moment. There’s a need within me to do something—anything. This hunger, this desire to do something cannot simply be contained. Though, there’s nothing for me to do. The closest thing I’ve got to him is Demi’s cell phone. I’ve attempted to call him a few times during the day, but nothing. I’ve only had one conversation since he left, but he had hung up without any goodbye.
Hogwart’s has changed drastically. Deaths. Disappearances. Abuse. It’s a whole new era, the era of what I call, the Cataclysm. Darkness looms overhead Hogwarts, blinding all outer light. Death breathes down on the neck of all, its cold frigid finger beckoning lost souls towards its bottomless oblivion. The moon at night casts an eerie glow as evil works in the midst, watching its preys with eager and cruel eyes and conjuring a plan to break apart what we spend years creating. One by one we’re taken into this circle of never-ending torments, a prisoner in its grasp. For those lucky enough, they die early. But the others perish a nightmare of eternity.
Disaster,
Monique Lascivious
September 16, 2009 Games with the Devil
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It’s not the fact that Braeden is dead, that utterly shocks me. It was who had killed him that did. I cannot be mad at him, though. It’s impossible, I could never do that. However, I honestly do not know how to react to his. From that day and till the end of time, he’ll be marked as someone who killed another human being.
Witnessing Braeden’s death and of course the killing is something I should have grown used to, with my past and all. But watching someone else do it—and out of all people, it had to be Will—it seemed to happen to be foreign to me. Each movement, each breath released in that appalling cave and that one movement that brought a life to an end, my mind just couldn’t understand and process what was happening. It was as if I was observing something from a completely different view. Never did I think that Will would be able to claim a life like that. He never seemed to be the type to do that. Did he have any second thoughts? Did he take the time to process what he was doing? Yes, it was for the sake of our own lives, to keep us safe, but still. Braeden was still human; a possessed psychopath awaiting every opportunity to inflict harm on the lives of the innocent. He needed help, to begin anew, and to align himself on the right path to have the future he had lost. He still had the right to live a better life. But it’s too late. He’s gone.
In a guilty and sadistic way, I’m highly thankful that Braeden is dead. What he had put us through, the paranoia, the abuse and the—I’m not even going there—he deserved to die. He had manipulated and took advantage of each of us, and particularly me. He seemed to take a high interest in me in his plan. His method was kept simple: Frame Monique and have everybody point the evidence toward her, and then take the opportunity to capture the other victims. Next, everyone would come to believe that they had all gotten killed. From there on, it’d be whatever he wanted to do to them.
Braeden Delano had a soul of the devil and the eyes of a sinister demon. Yet what he wanted to do to the four of us still remains unexplained. When we had been all in there, why didn’t he kill us all for the sake of it? Why did he wait? I just don’t understand.
What I do understand it that he’s dead.
And the person I love had killed him.
Victim,
Monique Lascivious
August 30, 2009 Kidnapped
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Monique awoke from the sleep, dazed and bleary, and finding herself in a pitch black oblivion. Soon regaining sense of her surroundings, she debated in her head whether or not she had awoken dead. Shock registered through her, as her eyes widened scanning the environment finding nothing but darkness and only feeling the cool rock of the cave beneath her. Though, she still didn’t quite know where she was and what was happening. Panic overwhelmed her shortly after, causing her to break into hyperventilation. The short quickened breaths were easily muffled or cut off by the gag that somehow was around her mouth. And as if a light had gone off in her head, her once lost and baffling chilling thoughts began to unravel itself, with one so appalling.
The warnings, the messages, the gifts. Somehow she had fallen into the predator’s plan and became a vital part of it. Her fears suddenly became the reality she had long dreaded. Whoever had been keeping an eye on her and her friends the past days, managed to get past her wits and imprison her. There were unyielding bonds around her wrists and ankles, leaving no room for movement. Terror rippled through her skin, sending shockwaves in her body causing her nerves to reach an all time high. She was more vulnerable at the moment than she could ever thought possible. One thing she may never know is whether she’ll remain alive.
Abruptly and out of nowhere, she felt it. The firm hand of her captive, who held her life by his or her hands, rest upon her head and grab a fistful of her hair.
To be continued...
August 10, 2009 Tables Turned
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Whether returning to Hogwarts was the greatest—or rather safest—idea ever, I still do not know. After all I’ve been through, the death of my beloved mother, becoming stranded deep into the wilderness and so much more, whatever possessed demon lurking in the shadows and terrorizing my life at every open opportunity, does not seem to give up. Now, after today, my lethal vampire instinct has become the least of my worries. As much as I attempt to deny the facts, the truth seems to find its way into my head.
I found the Phoenix. Dead. Ripped. Shredded. It broke a part of my soul for I owe my life to it. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be sitting here, pouring out my confusions on papers bound to a book. You wouldn’t ever understand my emotions. They’re mixed with anxiety, and various others, which I’m not sure if it’s possible for a human to be, well, overwhelmed with this many feelings. Then again, I’m not exactly human.
Somebody wants me dead.
The tactics used on those creatures murdered in the forest are almost identical to my own. Only a rare handful of people actually knew my ways of hunting. It doesn’t make sense that anyone could do this, unless someone... someone could have been watching me. Call me paranoid, but what if that person had its eyes on me at this very moment?
Then there was that message carved onto the boat after capsized from unknown reasons. You’re dead. It was written in pure haste. The only ones on the boat were Dekota, Jake, Jacob, Bella and I. Who they wanted dead exactly? I do not know. It could have just been some coincidence that happened at the wrong day and wrong time. But what if the two were linked? It doesn’t make any sense. It does, but I can’t help accepting the fact just yet. For all I know, it’s just a mere twist of fate.
I know I should get help, but I’d rather keep it to myself. You must think I’m out of my mind. I’ll pretend that nothing has bothered me. And hopefully it’ll put things back to normal. After all, my friends don’t deserve to be thrown into another dramatic sea of peril that is unnecessary to their lives. They’ve got their own paths to follow, from family, school and love lives. So, it’ll be a battle that I shall, alone, go through. And I’m going to need all the luck I can get.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll be able to see morning the next day.
Overwhelmed,
Monique Lascivious
July 29, 2009 Regained
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As the sun melted into the distant horizon, Monique was preparing for another long sleepless night of brackish tears. Rubbing her temple, there was an audible tap on the glass that claimed her attention. Glancing towards a window, a somewhat familiar owl pecked its beak on the pane, a letter in its grasp. She tilted her head in confusion, pondering on the thought of who could have sent a message, let alone know where she was.
She hesitated to open the window; however she could not fight away the curiosity that burned deep within her. Gently tugging on the letter, the owl released its hold on the parchment and flew off with an echoing hoot into the night. On her mahogany desk located at the corner of the room, she lit a wax candle, which emitted a warm orange glow. There was a temptation within her to ignite the letter into flames, watching it soon crumble into ashes. But she resisted, especially once her eye caught the name of the sender. And at that moment, tears began to well in her eyes and her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to explode. She steadied herself against the table from collapsing, and drew in a deep breath, reading on further.
And the first in a long time, as she read the words, she could not help but let out a genuine smile, despite the tears that ran down her cheeks. But the tears were different this time; it was neither from sorrow nor grief. It was from the memories that flooded into her consciousness, and another emotion she could not match words to, to describe. The sound of her laugh frightened her slightly for she was no more used to the sound, for she had forgotten how it had felt.
As she read the last few paragraphs, her heart thumped with longing and nostalgia, and she chewed her lip uneasily. The pain that was second nature to her body became a light fluttering sensation that engulfed her soul. It had felt as if a seed of life was implanted within her soul, and a guiding light that shown through the bitter darkness of depression. Those three words which she had awaited for, which echoed through her mind, were enough to drive her back to Hogwarts. She desperately needed to see him, to hear his voice, see his smile, and feel his touch and to tell him that she loved him with her whole heart that it was breaking her apart for her to be away.
That night, she packed her belongings.
July 28, 2009 Destroyed
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When I see your smile
Tears roll down my face I can't replace
And now that I'm strong I have figured out
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul
And I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one
I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.
Seasons are changing
And waves are crashing
And stars are falling all for us
Days grow longer and nights grow shorter
I can show you I'll be the one
I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Cuz you're my, you're my, my, my true love, my whole heart
Please don't throw that away
Cuz I'm here for you
Please don't walk away and
Please tell me you'll stay woah, stay woah
Use me as you will
Pull my strings just for a thrill
And I know I'll be okay
Though my skies are turning gray
I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Days absentmindedly pasted by, and honestly she didn’t bother keeping track of the dates. After disembarking the Hogwart’s Train, she was greeted by two women and a man who escorted her to Saint Mungo’s Hospital. At this time, Monique was able to compose herself. She kept silent and rarely talked but spoke only when necessary, successfully overcoming the quivering of her voice.
At first glance, she seemed as if nothing bothered her, when in truth, deep inside, her soul was slowly decaying and dying. Her smiles she offered to others were not the same; they lingered with an edge of sorrow. They never seemed to be genuine, but it was the closest thing she could muster to the real thing. Her laugh was sweet and compassionate—still forced—but the look on her face told rather a completely different story of agony.
She was fully aware of the messages received on her phone, and she read them at every night. Every word, she imagined the sender speaking and it broke her heart even more, to just remember their faces. She never deleted the messages, nor did she attempt to reply. She had to erase herself from their lives, she was not only hurting herself, but she too was affecting others.
She followed a basic routine at Saint Mungo’s, and did everything without hesitation. She kept her thoughts and self preoccupied by interacting with various patients at Saint Mungo’s. But overall she kept herself isolated, and wandered alone. The topic of Hogwarts was never brought up, and soon she was able to relax and notice less of the knots that were forming in her stomach, and the massive ache in her wounded heart, which even the doctors themselves, seemed to overlook. The pain had become second nature to her body, but even though she grew past it, one thing that never seem to go away were the tears in bed that she simply had no control over. She cried herself to sleep every miserable night, and as always, kept the moans of grief hidden. In the morning, she’d take her breakfast, without a word, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. No one dared asked. No one dared to comfort her. No one dared to sit with her at her table. She was isolated. Alone.
You win some, and you lose some. She thought. But at this moment, she couldn’t understand what she won in her part. However, she knew too well of what she lost. Her whole life. She did this all for the ones she loved. Her heart was bound with theirs, and some didn’t even know it or worse, they didn’t even care—it seemed like it at least. Now, because of love, it was what drove her away from them. She loved them too much. Her heart yearned from them; it needed Hogwarts as if it were a fish needing water. She sacrificed her whole life for them to live their own. And it meant a lot for her, she was proud of herself, but at times it didn’t seem as if it was worth it. Though, it seemed to be the only way to go.
She wanted to be complete.
She wanted to overcome her fears.
She wanted to become stronger.
She wanted to have her life back.
She wanted to be happy.
She wanted to not fail anyone.
She wanted to be loved.
She wanted to be comforted.
She wanted to live her life.
She wanted to prove herself wrong.
She wanted to smile.
She wanted to laugh.
She wanted to go home...
Love brings people closer to each other, but love, unbelievably powerful, can be the reason for separation.
July 24, 2009 Broken
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”I guess we are who we are for a lot of reasons. And maybe we’ll never know most of them. But even if we don’t have the power to choose where we come from, we can still choose where we go from there.”
Monique drew a breath, giving up her long-term struggle and at last leaving everything she lived for, away. Her body had been at war both mentally and physically longer than she could bare. And to her regret it was forced to raise the white flag of surrender.
To make things worse, the tears didn’t subside. They continued endlessly, as her heart and soul poured out through the bitter droplets that streaked her flushed cheeks. Her world flashed through her pain stricken eyes in a collection of montages, each capturing her successes and her failures. Gleeful smiles, spoonfuls of ice cream and horrid nightmares were mere memoirs that lingered in her mind shortly, before fading into the blackness of her sorrow.
Her hands quivered uncontrollably, and her heart pounded with such agony, she was tempted to end her life right then and there to stop the pain. But she had no strength left within her. She shielded her face from the sun, and kept her eyes drawn away from the windows of the train. It had come to her realization that she was now truly alone in the world. Never would there be again a hero, a shoulder to cry on or simply what she had just longed for, a voice. Not just any voice, but a tone of reassurance, of security and protection. It wasn’t much to ask for, but somehow it meant the world to her. It wasn’t until she realized she had lost a vital necessity in life until it was gone. Her heart spoke to her, admitting that she needed someone there in her life to be with her at that very moment. But it was too late. There was no one. She banished the thoughts, replacing the words her body knew by heart. The words that now dictated her life and altered her faith.
It felt as if her chest had been ripped away, and the ribs began to open, welcoming the predator to destroy her already wrecked and weakened heart. A shadow of bitter coldness engulfed her, slowly devouring her soul, wanting to savour the dread in her eyes that never seemed to disappear. The claws of torment scratched at her vulnerable heart; however, she felt nothing but a harsh numbness behind the pain. Attempting once more, an invisible dagger slashed through her, and she cringed, wrapping her arms around her body, but they were no use, the raging storm continued within her. The darkened clouds masked all light and hope in her body. She let out a silent plea, but it slowly registered in her mind that miracles no longer existed. Her dreams were left shattered and beaten; she was now a wandering soul roaming the world without a purpose. Her fantasies bled through the unfixable crevices that wounded her heart constantly. Her life had fallen into ruins, and had become strangled in the thorns. Suffocating in its own pity that it made on its own, the ache grew unbearable for such one person to take. Havoc fumed wildly as she drowned in her misery.
Completely losing her sanity, she let her emotions overwhelm and control her. She wasn’t going to bundle up her emotions, so she freed them, unclasping the handcuffs that kept them together. The crystal-like tears cascaded down her cheeks silently. But she wouldn’t give her sorrow the satisfaction of whimpering and moaning out loud.
Conjuring what was left of her, she reached forward, grasping the Muggle Camera she took with her to the vacation earlier that month, and her fragile fingers were unsteady as she desperately tried not to lose the grip. She caught an image of herself, and her eyes rose up, meeting her reflection on the window. No longer did her eyes that contain the usual glint of bliss. It was replaced by an unknown eccentric being, a delicate but lethal creature, now foreign to the world. She gazed back down at the photos, and as she saw the captured memories of her friends, her free hand quivering, covered her mouth, muffling a sob that escaped her lips. And at that instant, her heart, her life, broke apart...
”Wherever you are, it is your friends who make your world...” – William James
July 23, 2009 Farewell
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Do you know what's worth fighting for?
When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating?
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
Did you try to live on your own
When you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand too close to the fire
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?
When it's time to live and let die
And you can't get another try
Something inside this heart has died
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
21 Guns by Green Day – Somehow the song spoke to her like a prayer with a hidden message
She gave up.
Monique sat in a once filled train compartment, clutching onto a sheet of parchment that rested on her lap. Her eyes never left Hogwart’s castle. She trained them to transfix themselves on it, until it was no longer in her view. Marvelling at the aging walls, and glorious but somewhat menacing architecture, she knew that this had been her home all these years. Parting with the memories wounded her inside. A dull throbbing ache in her heart formed, and a pull in her stomach begged her for her to return. This was where she grew physically and mentally, and leaving it torn away another fragment of her shattered heart.
The Hogwarts Express train rattled slightly as it gradually increased speed. Tears pricked her eyes, as her childhood soon merged with the endless horizon. A sudden urge swept over her. It attempted to force hey body to run back to its home. Everything about Hogwarts—the paved stones to the diverse students—were a part of her. That’s was too also the reason why she didn’t have the inner strength to bid farewell in person to everyone she loved. She all too knew the answer that if she had gone to say goodbye, she’d never find the chance again to leave. Her mind would instantly change as it already had over and over. Every ticking moment she spent pushed her closer to others, and she was already dangerously too close to some particular others.
She needed to begin anew. Become a whole new person, surrounded by others who don’t quite have a clue on who she was. She needed to compose herself. She needed to be whole one more. But, hiding from her life at Hogwarts, made her heart emptier than before. She scolded at herself for accepting the vacancy of her soul. But she taught her mind to remember one thing, one other motive that drove her to leave Hogwarts; no one gave her a good reason to stay, to prove her wrong and she knew that she wasn’t wanted. She was just another S
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The girl who survived through numerous near death experiences at last found her match, and is never to return again.
Everything that had been worked up for, has now vanished.
And for the first time, she is now granted peace.
The End.
Though her story has ended, she has in fact, begun another.
February 9, 2010 Starting at the Source
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It's different. A good different I suppose. Despite the things that has happened, with the things that had happened at Will's house, (no it's not like that, I swear!) and discovering who my true father is, and what Delano's true motive was, somehow, I'm still alright. It's odd. And in all honesty, there isn't much to speak of in this entry. It's as if I started anew. I can't even put words to describe myself.
Frankly, there's only one thing I've yet to understand: how I got so far. I guess it's because of everyone who was there. Mom, if only you were here to meet them all. Maybe this is finally the end of it all. Where at last all my fears and struggles will finally disappear, never to return. I can only hope I suppose. And prepare myself for if it all comes back to haunt me.
There's so many things I need to catch up on. Everyone else had moved on long ago, and I've only barely came back. And can you believe it? It's only a few more weeks, 'til your death anniversary Mother. The day that started it all. Your death. The Delanos. All of it. But I won't be grieving. At least, I plan not to. I'm going to finally hold myself together, and spend at least a part of my time to greet hello to you.
I miss you Mom.
She stared at the words written on the pages of the book, heaving a sigh. Finished, and satisfied with what she had wrote, she closes her diary, spotting the image of her mother taped to the wooden mahogany desk, grinning back at her with those wise motherly eyes. She thought for a moment to herself, and smiled to herself, tucking the journal that had locked up her nightmares away into the drawer.
January 24, 2010 Starting at the Source
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Take a chance and be strong
You can spend your whole life holding on
Don’t look back just go
Take a breath and move along
She ran to her dorm and gathered her things without hesitation. She made sure to pack only the things that were necessary to her. No, she was not running from her fears again. This was different. She was running towards her fears, back to where it had all started. She didn't know how long she'd be there, in that forest. The only way to overcome her fear, was to face it head on. Surely this was a stupid idea, venturing out into the forest in the middle of winter. She had food that would last for a few good three days, and clothing that would keep her warm in the snow.
So she went, her footsteps embedding themselves onto the snow, marking her path. She came to a halt before the forest and looked in, swallowing. Holding her breath she stepped into the woods, and already the eerie atmosphere began to take a toll on her. The strong urge to return back to the safety of her dorm was nagging her from the back of her mind, but she pushed it away, quickening her pace.
And there it was. The cave. Though, another emotion filled her. It wasn't fear, terror, horror nor disgust. Not even hate. The bag slipped from her hand and fell to the floor, as she covered her mouth to muffle a moan. Tears slipped out of her eyes. She didn't bother hiding them, for there was no one to hide it from. She looked into the darkness, and see just barely of the broken remnants that reminded her of what had happened. As the tears rolled down her cheeks she took the first step into the shadows, hearing nothing but the silence.
Her hands ran along the edges of the cave, feeling the textures of the hard cool rock against her skin. She managed to regain control of her emotions, she was, oddly, natural. Everything that reminded her of the time, was another reassurance that it was all in the past and over. Evening was coming, and the cave was darkening to a pitch black. Just when she thought she was alone however, there was a voice. A whisper. A familiar whisper that called her name. Monique's senses flared and became alert as her eyes darted around the darkness for the source of the voice.
Then it appeared. Diane Lascivious in her faint and translucent form. Even in the shadows, Monique managed to see the contours of her face, and the smile that crossed it once their eyes met.
"Missed me?" It asked, with her arms spread wide. Her daughter made her way towards her, a weak smile as it attempted to embrace her mother into a hug. But instead, her arms came in contract only with the cool air, and the ghostly form went through her. Monique's smile faded as she turned around to her mother. "It's been a while hasn't it?" the mother said, chuckling. Monique was rendered speechless as she looked at her. "Smile. What's the matter?" She instructed, her own smile widening. The daughter smiled faintly, still not understanding what is happening. "They're dead Monique. For good. Shouldn't you be happy?" She asked, the grin still upon her face. "You look so broken. Why? You're surrounded by many that love you and care for you. Yet you're still saddened by what had happened. Your father worries over you greatly. He hasn't slept because of you." She said quietly, her smile fading. "I worry about you."
Just when Monique opened her mouth to speak, the apparition faded into nothing.
And that's when she woke up, her cheek pressed against the cold stone floor.
January 21, 2010 Smile
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My life will change.
For the better.
Because this time, I'm taking control.
It'll start off with a smile. Whether it be fake or genuine, I'll still smile. I've had enough being caught up in my misery. Everyone else is moving on. Why can't I?
Then I'll laugh. That's what I'll do. I'll laugh. It's been a while since I've laughed. That is, where I actually laughed, the whole thought of Delano in the back of my mind being non-existent.
He's gone. He's not going to play with my mind anymore. I can do this. This isn't something can be fixed, nor repaired, for I'm throwing my past away and beginning anew.
It'll be rough, for I still think of them. Their voices. Their actions. Their words. Their touch. I'll remember.
But those nightmares won't dictate my life.
She closed her diary, heaving a sigh as she put it aside. The words she had written seemed real. She does want to change. It was evident that everyone was getting slightly frustrated with her, tired with her never-ending troubles. She had to stop complaining and regain the pieces of her life. She had to start somewhere, so she got up and walked down the halls of Hogwarts, searching for the room she's always had tried to avoid.
"Oh, Miss Lascivious. I had not seen you there." the woman stated, rising to her feet from behind the desk. The room was small, cramped and cluttered. It had been purposely made as a storage room, though there were no rooms left available in the castle. "Has something come up?" She questioned with concern. It was her job to be or at least act worried about her. It was also her job to bare Monique's troubles at appointed hours.
"Uhm, I..." Monique began, stepping into the room and taking a seat in front of her desk.
"Now, if you're regarding about the facility, do take into consideration that we highly recommend it." She stated, sitting back down onto her chair.
"I don't think it'll be necessary though." Monique replied, clearing her throat. She raised her voice to keep it over a whisper, her hand curling into a fist as she tried to gain control over herself.
"Sweetie, with your circumstances, we urge you to go whether you like it or not, I'm afraid." She spoke gently, smiling slightly.
"But I'm better. I mean, I'm getting better." Monique said in her defense.
"Yes, I see. You're making improvements. At least your mind can understand the fact it's wanting to get better. But is actually?" She opened the drawers, before shooting a quick glance at her. "Are you sure you're getting better?"
"I'm positive. Delano is a thing of a past." She spoke firmly. She was slightly taken aback by herself, for she now been able to say their name without hesitation nor with disturbing images flashing through her mind. The woman pulled out moving photographs, what had seemed to be taken months ago. Photos that were taken by the brothers themselves. And at that instant, Monique felt it again. The pain. The voices. The whispers that'd flood into her mind. Seeing the discomfort on her face, the woman put it away, letting out a sigh. She looked back up to find Monique, only to see the spot in which she was sitting in, vacant.
January 4, 2010 Haunting
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He stands there in the shadows of my mind, watching and waiting. On occasion he speaks to me. His oh so familiar voice running chills up my spine. Not only goes he appear in my nightmares, but also in reality as well. His eyes burn with dark hatred, wanting to show no mercy. He never leaves me. He may be silent at times but he remains in my presence. It is overwhelming. The thoughts, the sights, and everything he brings to the table. I fear I shall not find peace.
The difference between reality and. Living nightmare is that reality has yet to change. Every decision we make reflects the outcome. With a nightmare, however, you have no control with what goes on.
"Mr. Lascivious, we heard about the traumatic events that has affected your family. But your daughter here has been quite disruptive the past nights. We have complaints from students of screams coming from her. According to her dorm mates, and I myself, she can be quite uncontrollable. At times she shrieks the name of the Delano boys. On behalf of the students, we need Monique to stop. And as well, we worry about her." stated Professor McGonagall. Mr. Lascivious paced across the room, shaking his head every so often. "I'll be blunt Dwayne. Your daughter needs help."
"How is she?" her father questioned the therapist with worry written on his face.
"Shes ver disturbed after what she had endured. She's suffering under trauma, and it's absolutely natural for her. However, her case is much more severe. She struggles coping with the thoughts of Delano or anything related to them." the woman replied. "Fortunately, she found a way to deal with them." Dwayne heaved a sigh of relief. "And it's what worries me the most. Were you aware that your daughter in her past inflicted pain upon herself? Have you noticed the scars that were on her arms?" The father's face fell.
"How long in the past?" he questioned.
"According to her confession, almost more than a year ago. And before her Mother's death. You see, it seems the only way she can erase the Delanos from her consciousness, for at least temporarily, is by self affliction. She hasn't admitted to it yet, and I say we should not push her. The only reason I found out was due to the fresh scars on her forearm. If her imagination fully takes over here, I fear she shall resort to suicidal itself to escape her fears."
Dwayne stared at her speechlessly, before glancing out the window to see her daughter sitting on a wooden bench under a tree.
December 20, 2009 Messages
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Dear my beloved daughter,
When you receive this letter, it would have meant that I had been murdered. Know that I would never want to leave you alone in the world. After Mother’s death, I saw how miserable you were from the way you ignored my messages and the looks on your face. I would never want to dream of myself not being there for you, anymore. However, that day has come. I had always wished that this day would never cease to exist. And now, being gone, it is come to the time to explain to you what I had not been able to do.
Years ago, when you were a mere child, still oblivious to the dangers of the world, your Mother and I had difficult financial troubles. It was a struggle each day to place a decent meal on the table. It had been a harsh winter until we met the two brothers, Braeden and Demetrius Delano. Demetrius was much older and matured than his younger and troublesome brother. Braeden had a problem with coping with his problems, such as his alcoholic habit. Demetrius knew me through friends, and in fact, in the past, we both were quite close friends. He had heard that I was able to create a potion which would not entirely stop the habit, but had a good chance of putting his craving away for a while. I took this opportunity to make a deal with him. In exchange for this recipe, it was required that he pay the whole cash fee, And so he did. The whole lot of it. And that’s when we ran. Out of city and towns and all the way to the other side of the county. We disappeared off the face of the earth.
We hadn’t heard from them since. I don’t even know if they tried looking for us at all. However, they had discovered where they were few months before your Mother died. Mother had not died from cancer. She had in fact been murdered as well, poisoned to be specific. I had intercepted the letters from the Hospital and even spoke with the staff to deceive you. I was for your own good. I hadn’t wanted you to worry over this. I knew how angry you would have gotten, and I feared you would do something rash, such as avenge for your Mother. When you got in that life threatening car accident, your name spread all across the newspapers, especially when you miraculously lived. Fate was not on our side, for Demetrius had acquired a copy. He knew you’d be at Hogwarts, completing your education. The Delano brothers are known for their notorious illegal activities caused by anger. In other words, if you made them furious, you’re dead. He wanted you to be included in his plan, to get me to pay him back. And not using wealth itself, but with my own life.
The two plotted in the shadows as I searched night and day for the two. But they had gotten to you first. When Braeden first locked eyes with you, he knew. Demetrius had been much more intellectual and professional with his doings, but Braeden was the brute force behind it. He knew the victims both in and out, and was much more physical and drastic with his tactics. You see Monique, what they do is they use the people who we keep dearly to our hearts to their advantages. They’re coming after you next Monique. And it’s all because of me. Don’t let them get you. My death was not a waste. Yoũ’re most likely confused but remember one thing. Instead Monique, always learn incantations & verbal enchantments.
Love,
Dad
Monique,
I’d like to finally meet again, in person. The address is enclosed in this message. Let’s make this easy shall we? Come and surrender yourself, and you may even be spared your life. If you fail to cooperate, then say good bye to that Will Myatt, and his family. What a pity, that Kezzie child dying because of your father. You’ve only got a few days. I’m watching you. Tell anyone of this, and you all die.
Is a name really necessary? You should know me.
PS. Merry Christmas.
December 13, 2009 The Return
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I was drawn to write something in my diary tonight. However, for once in my life there isn’t anything specific to talk about. It’s quite a change, mind you. Just by looking at the previous entries and reminiscing on the past, my life seemed to have been filled with all sorts of events and tragedies. But this week is different. In a good way? I suppose so. It’s been quiet and filled with numerous cups of hot chocolate. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten a decent sleep and meal. Diary, you do not know how many times I’ve cried myself to sleep, or stayed awake, paranoid that Death is lurking in the shadows. Reality was a terrible nightmare, and I was so utterly afraid it’d also too slip into my dreams.
It’s father’s funeral next Monday. And I’ve yet to create a speech in his name. I regret so many years I had with him. My father and I had never truly been close. He was there when he was. Ever since I was a child I grown to see him late at night in his home office signing stacks of parchments. His work had followed him everywhere. I hadn’t minded, for he was yet to balance his work with his leisure time. Of course, I knew too well that my family hadn’t been financially successful in the beginning.
Few years later, my father had the biggest break in his career. Not only was he promoted, but he too received much more money than he usually did when he returned home. My mother was in completely awe at first, and did not hesitate with purchasing her dream waterfront residence. Years followed, and we grew apart. I moved to Hogwarts, and we all started separate lives.
They’ve always been there for me, motivating and urging me to get back in line. I must admit, the Monique I had been in the past, is unlike whom I am today. She’s become forgotten, a thing of the past. It’s almost as if I had been resurrected.
The end has come. And it is time to begin anew.
Christmas Part II
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” Monique’s father murmured in their living room, giving a sympathetic look to his wife.
“Hun, you know how much they look forward to it. What will we say when they’ve got no gift in their stockings?” Diane replied, her mouth pulled down in a disappointed frown.
“They’ve just got to understand that we can’t. I know how much you love Christmas, but what’s more important? New presents or food on the table?” He asked quietly. Diane sat closely to him, resting her head onto his shoulder.
“They’ll be so let down.” She murmured. “You should have seen Monique’s face at that magical creature store.” Letting out a quiet laugh, she looked blankly ahead. “She was looking so forward to it. Sometimes I believe she favours Christmas over her own birthday.” Dwayne smiled at this, chuckling at the thought of his daughter.
“You know, she reminds me of you sometimes. Her love for Christmas comes from you.” He stated, laying a sweet kiss on her forehead. At that moment Monique let out a wince, gradually making her way down the stairs. She clung to the railing for support, taking each movement with an awkward step. Her mother turned and glanced over her shoulder and smiled when she saw her daughter. As Monique set foot onto the floor, the six year old child sprinted towards her parents and crawled onto their laps.
“Mommy, Daddy, is Santa coming this year?” She questioned anticipation and hope gleaming in her eyes. Her father heaved a sigh, and forced a smile.
“Sweetie, Santa got sick this year.” He explained, forcing out a terrible lie. His wife shot him a look, clearing her throat. Monique stared at her parents, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Does that mean I still get my Christmas wish?” She asked, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper. She handed it to her parents, tears building up in her eyes. It wasn’t much of a letter to Santa, but more like a drawing. It depicted Santa holding what seems to be some unknown figure, which her mother assumed was the creature, giving it to a stick version of herself.
“We’re sorry.” Her father murmured. It broke their hearts, knowing that they were the cause for taking away Monique’s hopes.
December 13, 2009 The Return
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I never believe a word that comes out of Devious’ damned mouth. Truly I don’t. But a few days ago, what she said, I couldn’t help myself. Deep inside of me has the urge of blaming Will for the death of my father. It’s still a small spark, barely noticeable even, but it still bothers me that it exists. I don’t want to feel the pain of knowing that my father’s murder could have been avoided if Will didn’t kill Braeden. I don’t want to claim him responsible for anything even though Devious claimed many convincing details. When I do think of these things, blaming him and all, I just want to turn my back to him. I know it’s wrong. However, I just need to clear my mind. Just when I was starting to get over things, Devious had to show up. My mind is jumbled up all over the place. My biggest fear is losing what Will and I have, just over my father’s death and the Delano case. I’ve lost so many people I’ve loved this past year, and Will is pretty much all I’ve got left.
Maybe it’s just the anger that’s been building up the past weeks. I’ve grieved so much over my father’s death I completely ignored the resentment I had to the murderer. And now I’m just venting it out on Will. Every time I try to forget about things, the topic is once again brought up, and I once again relive through the moment. I need to take a break. But the last time I said that, all it did was made me meet Braeden Delano.
To be honest, I don’t know what to do. Ignore Devious? As much as I try, she’s always there. Maybe I should try talking to Will again. However the last time I did words I hadn’t meant to say flowed out without thought. I didn’t mean to be as harsh as I was. I’ll probably end up screwing up next time I see him.
I’ve come to a conclusion, my life is doomed.
What’s the point really? Now that I think of it. We go through so much in our lives, and for what? Nothing. We end up dying in the end. I don’t get it. I’m tired of having to go through the struggle and misery.
If Will hadn’t killed Braeden, what would have happened? Would I be here where I am today? Would I have died? Would my father still be alive? So many questions, and barely any answers.
Time will tell.
x. Monique Lascivious
December 4, 2009 Reminiscence
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March 2009
I still remember what you looked like on your death bed. So frail and hopeless, your eyes drained of their shine. You looked at me, mustering the strength you had left from those sleepless nights. It pained you to be seen this way, so useless and weak. We denied the inevitable truth, as if it’d somehow help and miraculously cure you of your cancer.
It looked so easy for you; just laying there and knowing the unfortunately fate that was to come to you. I never did see you cry. When I talked to you, it always broke something inside of me to see you in such agony. I did not shed a tear in your presence. I remember how much you hated to see me in tears. That’s why I couldn’t be with you long.
I know I don’t deserve such a caring mother like you. Ever since I was a child, I took you two, my parents, for granted. I expected you to have everything for me, even when there was barely anything to feed us each day.
I remember that letter. The one both the doctors and your nurse wrote me, breaking the news of your passing. I still never got over your death you know. To be honest, I regretted leaving your side. I should have been there, as you would have done so if it had been me. I can’t express how sorry I am.
But today I realize I can’t sulk my entire life and think of more regrets to put me down. I’ll still grieve at the thought of you, I know that. However, I’ll live more in the moment, looking into the future you and father had worked up to give me.
I don’t know what the future has in store, whether I’d be the same person as I am today. But tomorrow is my future, and I’ll live one day at a time. As I recount on those memories of hardships and laughter, I’ll remember you both forever.
Rest in Peace.
November 25, 2009 Christmas
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“Mum! Can I have that, can I have that?” A smaller, six year old version of Monique asked, tugging on her Mother’s robe as they walked down the aisle. She tip toed, struggling to reach the foreign creature which was still in its cage, on the shelf. None of the other more simple pets intrigued her as much as this one did. The puppies were very adorable, she agreed. However that animal, which seemed to look as if a phoenix and a dragon came together, was the one she had been eyeing for.
Diane turned on her heel, following her daughter’s gaze. “Monique! Don’t do that! You’ll break something!” She shrieked as she pulled her daughter with great difficulty away from the merchandise.
“But Mommy! Please! I want it!” She pleaded, glaring up at her mother. Diane dropped to her knees, looking at her child in the eyes.
“Sweetie, look, Mommy really does want to buy it for you, but, she can’t okay?” She explained, trying to keep her daughter in control. But typically, Monique didn’t understand and threw a fit, running away from the grasp of her mother and shrieking at the top of her lungs. Diane rose to her feet, her expression remaining peaceful. She had indeed seen it coming, and took a deep breath after chasing after her. Wizards and witches stopped amongst their shopping to stare at the chaos.
“Mommy is mean! Mommy is mean!” Monique exclaimed, weaving through the crowds. Her mother received suspicious glares, and it was when her daughter tripped over her own feet was Diane able to take hold of her once more.
“Look, I’ll get it for you okay? We have to go home.”Her daughter gave her a hopefully look.
“Then we’ll get it?” Her eyes grew with anticipation, and it broke her mother’s heart. It had been a cold winter, both physically and financially. She didn’t know how she would break it to her that Christmas this year may not even happen.
“Yes. Yes, after father comes home.” She lied hesitantly.
“Mommy, I love you.” Monique replied thankfully with a wide childish grin.
“I love you too, sweetie.” She murmured, the guilt settling in her gut.
Dear Diary,
I am writing this from the Slytherin Common Room, overlooking the beautiful scenery just out of my window. Frost frames the glass, the tiny crystals glistening against the candlelight. Since it is only just early morning, the sun is still gradually rising from the horizon. But even though, the thick blanket of snow on the ground is still able to reflect its light. Faded remains of footprints lie in the area, recollecting back the memories of the time in the snow. The Lake, once always moving, is now motionless and frozen, its ice slowly accumulating with snow.
But I wasn’t here to describe what I was seeing. No diary, on the contrary, I was here to express myself. Whether I should be happy or not, I do not know.
You see, I knew I couldn’t stay mad at him for long. You see, he has this odd ability that he probably doesn’t even know of. When I try to forget about him, and leave him and all, he manages to get in my head, and yet draw me towards him. No matter what I say or how much distance I create between us, he manages to remain in my life. But, I’ve got him back now, and I suppose it’s all that matters. Of course I’m glad, for once in a long time have I been able to laugh and smile. Though from my experience I’ve learned that happiness never lasts...
Christmas was one of the most special holidays of my life. Every year I’d look forward to putting up the Christmas tree, and hanging the stockings. And those childhood memories would fill my heart with delight. It was a part of the year where only one thing mattered, the present moment. The sense of being with the ones who you love, and forgetting about everything for a moment. The warmth from the fireplaces, the laughter from the family, the exchanging of gifts and thanks, all of it was very special to me. I can’t even stress how important that day was for me. But it’s come to my realization, that this would be the very first Christmas without them.
Never would I ever hear their laughter, or see my mother stress over the gifts. With their passing, they too took along the Christmas spirit with them. Who’s going to put up the Christmas tree? Raise the lights onto the front of the house in a way to make the neighbours jealous? But that’s not the point.
Christmas won’t be the same. The joy on children’s faces, when you surprise them with gifts, it’ll never have the same effect as it had before. Sneaking behind the trees, hitting unsuspecting victims with snowballs, still not the same.
Everyone gets to go home, celebrate the holiday with their loved ones. Some even take it for granted. Then along the picture, I come in. Unlike them, I’ll be staying at Hogwarts, laying in the snow and waiting for death to take me along with it.
I’ve drawn myself to one conclusion. This Christmas, will be a lonely and terrible time of year.
Merry Christmas,
Monique Lascivious
November 14, 2009 The Beginning of an End
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“If we didn’t have terrible moments in life, we wouldn’t cherish the good ones as much.”
Every moment of my life, every second, and breath I took, there was always death waiting. I could sense its presence. And now, I’ve never felt more alone in the world. My mother’s death was indeed a tragedy, one that I have yet to overcome. But still, as much as I grieved, I knew a few people were there supporting me along the way. However now, Mom’s gone, Dad’s gone, and even Will, the one who had been there the entire time, he’s gone.
Each tear I shed, a part of me slipped away. I had spent months, piecing myself together, slowly rearranging the fragments of my soul that shattered under the cruel grasp or misery. However, it only took news—merely words put together—to break it all apart.
I had been in denial, not accepting the truth that my father had died. I didn’t want to go through what I had when my Mom left. I was afraid. I strongly had believed that my father was still alive, and was even reassured by Will. Of all people, Will had to deceive me, going far to as disguising as my own father.
It broke my heart.
I was enraged, mislead and felt betrayed by the person who I had loved the most. I love him. I still do. Yet what he did, I can’t yet come to forgive. It agonizes me greatly, enough to drive me to the edge. I couldn’t take it anymore. The lies, the pain, the losses... I ended it. Do I regret it? Maybe. Maybe not. And it upsets me knowing I’m without him now. We’ve been through more than the average life of a human, and survived the unimaginable. But I had at last given up. My heart was in no position to endure anything more. He had been the reason why I woke up every morning, looking forward to the day instead of escaping the reality which I had tried oh so many times in the past. But with nothing left, what now?
Three Strikes, And You’re Out,
Monique Lascivious
Dear Father,
When Mom left, I wrote her a letter. And it only seemed fitting that I had done the same for you.
To be honest, I don’t know where to begin. There’s so much to say. So many things I’d like to apologize for and tell you. It always seem to be the case, considering I’m speaking to a person has the unlikeliest chance to read this. It pains me to write this, my writing barely legible due to the quivering of my arm.
Father, send my greetings to Mother. It must be to your delight that you are once at last reunited with her for all eternity. I know it was what you wanted. I guess I shouldn’t be complaining; it was for the best after all. I miss you both, and never shall I forget you.
Maybe, within time, we’ll soon to be together as one.
Love,
Your Daughter
P.S. I apologize for it being too short, let alone how hard it must be reading through the smudged ink.
November 2, 2009 Defeat
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Sometimes all we need in the darkest areas of life is a dream; a dream in which to inspire and motivate oneself. To ignite that once burning flame that illuminated from within. But when even the dark and light aren’t present, it’s nearly impossible to find your way. What is left is simply nothing.
I haven’t quite understood much of what is happening at the present moment. Various events have taken place, that no longer am I able to keep up. For now, I remain behind the Ministry’s walls, tucked in the corner of the hallway with dried up tears of defeat on my cheeks.
No, I can’t say I’m surprised. I was expecting my father to react sooner or later. I had just hoped that time would have never come. Though, it was inevitable, and moment he would be forced to take action. If there was one person in the world who I was afraid of, I have to admit, it’d be my own father. It’s him in which my life and fate usually lies and depends on. He had been the menacing wall, protecting me ever since birth and toughening me up for the harsh and cruel reality, for it was my father, who I could both hate with pure resentment, and yet love him dearly despite the disagreements. I oppose of his choice, naturally, though what worries me is how I would be able to make him understand that Hogwarts is my home.
Never once had I been successful in persuading him otherwise. He managed to always find a way to have his own way. Whatever I said, and no matter how many childish tantrums I threw, somehow, I’ve failed. No matter how much courage, will power and motivation I mustered, he continued to end victorious. I had tried. I had tried. I had tried. And I am still trying yet not succeeding, the more I attempt, the more I fall behind. He’s already ahead of the game, it had been officially set, and I am to depart within a few days according to the written paperwork. My belongings are waiting, gradually accumulating dust in my abandoned room which I had left years ago.
But what hurts the most is that I have to leave it all, completely. I’ve been forbidden after the trial to converse with Hogwarts students, including Will whom has not been in great terms with my father so far. My father even went to great lengths to hire men to make sure I complied, and if I hadn’t, I’d be on a one way ticket across the world. I’d be caught off from their worlds, forced to live a separate life as if they had not existed. What would happen to them? What would happen to me? What would happen to Will and I? It pains me to imagine living on without him.
And here I sit, alone in the shadows, pouring my thoughts in the book that had been there from the start.
Defeated,
Monique Lascivious
October 13, 2009 The Cataclysm
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This is how it must have felt when I had left, the heavy pull of the stomach, the burning emptiness within and the indescribable pain of the heart. It agonizes me that the bitter truth is that there is nothing I can do to bring him back. They’re absolutely right. I cannot run out, do something rash and expect to find him, and we’d all live happily ever after. (I’m suing whoever made up that concept of a happily ever after, by the way.) It just doesn’t happen this way. But this emotion of helplessness makes me turn restless. In the night I can’t help wonder what is running through his head at the moment. There’s a need within me to do something—anything. This hunger, this desire to do something cannot simply be contained. Though, there’s nothing for me to do. The closest thing I’ve got to him is Demi’s cell phone. I’ve attempted to call him a few times during the day, but nothing. I’ve only had one conversation since he left, but he had hung up without any goodbye.
Hogwart’s has changed drastically. Deaths. Disappearances. Abuse. It’s a whole new era, the era of what I call, the Cataclysm. Darkness looms overhead Hogwarts, blinding all outer light. Death breathes down on the neck of all, its cold frigid finger beckoning lost souls towards its bottomless oblivion. The moon at night casts an eerie glow as evil works in the midst, watching its preys with eager and cruel eyes and conjuring a plan to break apart what we spend years creating. One by one we’re taken into this circle of never-ending torments, a prisoner in its grasp. For those lucky enough, they die early. But the others perish a nightmare of eternity.
Disaster,
Monique Lascivious
September 16, 2009 Games with the Devil
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It’s not the fact that Braeden is dead, that utterly shocks me. It was who had killed him that did. I cannot be mad at him, though. It’s impossible, I could never do that. However, I honestly do not know how to react to his. From that day and till the end of time, he’ll be marked as someone who killed another human being.
Witnessing Braeden’s death and of course the killing is something I should have grown used to, with my past and all. But watching someone else do it—and out of all people, it had to be Will—it seemed to happen to be foreign to me. Each movement, each breath released in that appalling cave and that one movement that brought a life to an end, my mind just couldn’t understand and process what was happening. It was as if I was observing something from a completely different view. Never did I think that Will would be able to claim a life like that. He never seemed to be the type to do that. Did he have any second thoughts? Did he take the time to process what he was doing? Yes, it was for the sake of our own lives, to keep us safe, but still. Braeden was still human; a possessed psychopath awaiting every opportunity to inflict harm on the lives of the innocent. He needed help, to begin anew, and to align himself on the right path to have the future he had lost. He still had the right to live a better life. But it’s too late. He’s gone.
In a guilty and sadistic way, I’m highly thankful that Braeden is dead. What he had put us through, the paranoia, the abuse and the—I’m not even going there—he deserved to die. He had manipulated and took advantage of each of us, and particularly me. He seemed to take a high interest in me in his plan. His method was kept simple: Frame Monique and have everybody point the evidence toward her, and then take the opportunity to capture the other victims. Next, everyone would come to believe that they had all gotten killed. From there on, it’d be whatever he wanted to do to them.
Braeden Delano had a soul of the devil and the eyes of a sinister demon. Yet what he wanted to do to the four of us still remains unexplained. When we had been all in there, why didn’t he kill us all for the sake of it? Why did he wait? I just don’t understand.
What I do understand it that he’s dead.
And the person I love had killed him.
Victim,
Monique Lascivious
August 30, 2009 Kidnapped
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Monique awoke from the sleep, dazed and bleary, and finding herself in a pitch black oblivion. Soon regaining sense of her surroundings, she debated in her head whether or not she had awoken dead. Shock registered through her, as her eyes widened scanning the environment finding nothing but darkness and only feeling the cool rock of the cave beneath her. Though, she still didn’t quite know where she was and what was happening. Panic overwhelmed her shortly after, causing her to break into hyperventilation. The short quickened breaths were easily muffled or cut off by the gag that somehow was around her mouth. And as if a light had gone off in her head, her once lost and baffling chilling thoughts began to unravel itself, with one so appalling.
The warnings, the messages, the gifts. Somehow she had fallen into the predator’s plan and became a vital part of it. Her fears suddenly became the reality she had long dreaded. Whoever had been keeping an eye on her and her friends the past days, managed to get past her wits and imprison her. There were unyielding bonds around her wrists and ankles, leaving no room for movement. Terror rippled through her skin, sending shockwaves in her body causing her nerves to reach an all time high. She was more vulnerable at the moment than she could ever thought possible. One thing she may never know is whether she’ll remain alive.
Abruptly and out of nowhere, she felt it. The firm hand of her captive, who held her life by his or her hands, rest upon her head and grab a fistful of her hair.
To be continued...
August 10, 2009 Tables Turned
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Whether returning to Hogwarts was the greatest—or rather safest—idea ever, I still do not know. After all I’ve been through, the death of my beloved mother, becoming stranded deep into the wilderness and so much more, whatever possessed demon lurking in the shadows and terrorizing my life at every open opportunity, does not seem to give up. Now, after today, my lethal vampire instinct has become the least of my worries. As much as I attempt to deny the facts, the truth seems to find its way into my head.
I found the Phoenix. Dead. Ripped. Shredded. It broke a part of my soul for I owe my life to it. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be sitting here, pouring out my confusions on papers bound to a book. You wouldn’t ever understand my emotions. They’re mixed with anxiety, and various others, which I’m not sure if it’s possible for a human to be, well, overwhelmed with this many feelings. Then again, I’m not exactly human.
Somebody wants me dead.
The tactics used on those creatures murdered in the forest are almost identical to my own. Only a rare handful of people actually knew my ways of hunting. It doesn’t make sense that anyone could do this, unless someone... someone could have been watching me. Call me paranoid, but what if that person had its eyes on me at this very moment?
Then there was that message carved onto the boat after capsized from unknown reasons. You’re dead. It was written in pure haste. The only ones on the boat were Dekota, Jake, Jacob, Bella and I. Who they wanted dead exactly? I do not know. It could have just been some coincidence that happened at the wrong day and wrong time. But what if the two were linked? It doesn’t make any sense. It does, but I can’t help accepting the fact just yet. For all I know, it’s just a mere twist of fate.
I know I should get help, but I’d rather keep it to myself. You must think I’m out of my mind. I’ll pretend that nothing has bothered me. And hopefully it’ll put things back to normal. After all, my friends don’t deserve to be thrown into another dramatic sea of peril that is unnecessary to their lives. They’ve got their own paths to follow, from family, school and love lives. So, it’ll be a battle that I shall, alone, go through. And I’m going to need all the luck I can get.
Sometimes, I wonder if I’ll be able to see morning the next day.
Overwhelmed,
Monique Lascivious
July 29, 2009 Regained
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As the sun melted into the distant horizon, Monique was preparing for another long sleepless night of brackish tears. Rubbing her temple, there was an audible tap on the glass that claimed her attention. Glancing towards a window, a somewhat familiar owl pecked its beak on the pane, a letter in its grasp. She tilted her head in confusion, pondering on the thought of who could have sent a message, let alone know where she was.
She hesitated to open the window; however she could not fight away the curiosity that burned deep within her. Gently tugging on the letter, the owl released its hold on the parchment and flew off with an echoing hoot into the night. On her mahogany desk located at the corner of the room, she lit a wax candle, which emitted a warm orange glow. There was a temptation within her to ignite the letter into flames, watching it soon crumble into ashes. But she resisted, especially once her eye caught the name of the sender. And at that moment, tears began to well in her eyes and her heart pounded against her chest, threatening to explode. She steadied herself against the table from collapsing, and drew in a deep breath, reading on further.
And the first in a long time, as she read the words, she could not help but let out a genuine smile, despite the tears that ran down her cheeks. But the tears were different this time; it was neither from sorrow nor grief. It was from the memories that flooded into her consciousness, and another emotion she could not match words to, to describe. The sound of her laugh frightened her slightly for she was no more used to the sound, for she had forgotten how it had felt.
As she read the last few paragraphs, her heart thumped with longing and nostalgia, and she chewed her lip uneasily. The pain that was second nature to her body became a light fluttering sensation that engulfed her soul. It had felt as if a seed of life was implanted within her soul, and a guiding light that shown through the bitter darkness of depression. Those three words which she had awaited for, which echoed through her mind, were enough to drive her back to Hogwarts. She desperately needed to see him, to hear his voice, see his smile, and feel his touch and to tell him that she loved him with her whole heart that it was breaking her apart for her to be away.
That night, she packed her belongings.
July 28, 2009 Destroyed
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Tears roll down my face I can't replace
And now that I'm strong I have figured out
How this world turns cold and it breaks through my soul
And I know I'll find deep inside me I can be the one
I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
It's okay. It's okay. It's okay.
Seasons are changing
And waves are crashing
And stars are falling all for us
Days grow longer and nights grow shorter
I can show you I'll be the one
I will never let you fall (let you fall)
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all (through it all)
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Cuz you're my, you're my, my, my true love, my whole heart
Please don't throw that away
Cuz I'm here for you
Please don't walk away and
Please tell me you'll stay woah, stay woah
Use me as you will
Pull my strings just for a thrill
And I know I'll be okay
Though my skies are turning gray
I will never let you fall
I'll stand up with you forever
I'll be there for you through it all
Even if saving you sends me to heaven
Your Guardian Angel by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus
Days absentmindedly pasted by, and honestly she didn’t bother keeping track of the dates. After disembarking the Hogwart’s Train, she was greeted by two women and a man who escorted her to Saint Mungo’s Hospital. At this time, Monique was able to compose herself. She kept silent and rarely talked but spoke only when necessary, successfully overcoming the quivering of her voice.
At first glance, she seemed as if nothing bothered her, when in truth, deep inside, her soul was slowly decaying and dying. Her smiles she offered to others were not the same; they lingered with an edge of sorrow. They never seemed to be genuine, but it was the closest thing she could muster to the real thing. Her laugh was sweet and compassionate—still forced—but the look on her face told rather a completely different story of agony.
She was fully aware of the messages received on her phone, and she read them at every night. Every word, she imagined the sender speaking and it broke her heart even more, to just remember their faces. She never deleted the messages, nor did she attempt to reply. She had to erase herself from their lives, she was not only hurting herself, but she too was affecting others.
She followed a basic routine at Saint Mungo’s, and did everything without hesitation. She kept her thoughts and self preoccupied by interacting with various patients at Saint Mungo’s. But overall she kept herself isolated, and wandered alone. The topic of Hogwarts was never brought up, and soon she was able to relax and notice less of the knots that were forming in her stomach, and the massive ache in her wounded heart, which even the doctors themselves, seemed to overlook. The pain had become second nature to her body, but even though she grew past it, one thing that never seem to go away were the tears in bed that she simply had no control over. She cried herself to sleep every miserable night, and as always, kept the moans of grief hidden. In the morning, she’d take her breakfast, without a word, her eyes swollen and bloodshot. No one dared asked. No one dared to comfort her. No one dared to sit with her at her table. She was isolated. Alone.
You win some, and you lose some. She thought. But at this moment, she couldn’t understand what she won in her part. However, she knew too well of what she lost. Her whole life. She did this all for the ones she loved. Her heart was bound with theirs, and some didn’t even know it or worse, they didn’t even care—it seemed like it at least. Now, because of love, it was what drove her away from them. She loved them too much. Her heart yearned from them; it needed Hogwarts as if it were a fish needing water. She sacrificed her whole life for them to live their own. And it meant a lot for her, she was proud of herself, but at times it didn’t seem as if it was worth it. Though, it seemed to be the only way to go.
She wanted to be complete.
She wanted to overcome her fears.
She wanted to become stronger.
She wanted to have her life back.
She wanted to be happy.
She wanted to not fail anyone.
She wanted to be loved.
She wanted to be comforted.
She wanted to live her life.
She wanted to prove herself wrong.
She wanted to smile.
She wanted to laugh.
She wanted to go home...
Love brings people closer to each other, but love, unbelievably powerful, can be the reason for separation.
July 24, 2009 Broken
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Monique drew a breath, giving up her long-term struggle and at last leaving everything she lived for, away. Her body had been at war both mentally and physically longer than she could bare. And to her regret it was forced to raise the white flag of surrender.
To make things worse, the tears didn’t subside. They continued endlessly, as her heart and soul poured out through the bitter droplets that streaked her flushed cheeks. Her world flashed through her pain stricken eyes in a collection of montages, each capturing her successes and her failures. Gleeful smiles, spoonfuls of ice cream and horrid nightmares were mere memoirs that lingered in her mind shortly, before fading into the blackness of her sorrow.
Her hands quivered uncontrollably, and her heart pounded with such agony, she was tempted to end her life right then and there to stop the pain. But she had no strength left within her. She shielded her face from the sun, and kept her eyes drawn away from the windows of the train. It had come to her realization that she was now truly alone in the world. Never would there be again a hero, a shoulder to cry on or simply what she had just longed for, a voice. Not just any voice, but a tone of reassurance, of security and protection. It wasn’t much to ask for, but somehow it meant the world to her. It wasn’t until she realized she had lost a vital necessity in life until it was gone. Her heart spoke to her, admitting that she needed someone there in her life to be with her at that very moment. But it was too late. There was no one. She banished the thoughts, replacing the words her body knew by heart. The words that now dictated her life and altered her faith.
It felt as if her chest had been ripped away, and the ribs began to open, welcoming the predator to destroy her already wrecked and weakened heart. A shadow of bitter coldness engulfed her, slowly devouring her soul, wanting to savour the dread in her eyes that never seemed to disappear. The claws of torment scratched at her vulnerable heart; however, she felt nothing but a harsh numbness behind the pain. Attempting once more, an invisible dagger slashed through her, and she cringed, wrapping her arms around her body, but they were no use, the raging storm continued within her. The darkened clouds masked all light and hope in her body. She let out a silent plea, but it slowly registered in her mind that miracles no longer existed. Her dreams were left shattered and beaten; she was now a wandering soul roaming the world without a purpose. Her fantasies bled through the unfixable crevices that wounded her heart constantly. Her life had fallen into ruins, and had become strangled in the thorns. Suffocating in its own pity that it made on its own, the ache grew unbearable for such one person to take. Havoc fumed wildly as she drowned in her misery.
Completely losing her sanity, she let her emotions overwhelm and control her. She wasn’t going to bundle up her emotions, so she freed them, unclasping the handcuffs that kept them together. The crystal-like tears cascaded down her cheeks silently. But she wouldn’t give her sorrow the satisfaction of whimpering and moaning out loud.
Conjuring what was left of her, she reached forward, grasping the Muggle Camera she took with her to the vacation earlier that month, and her fragile fingers were unsteady as she desperately tried not to lose the grip. She caught an image of herself, and her eyes rose up, meeting her reflection on the window. No longer did her eyes that contain the usual glint of bliss. It was replaced by an unknown eccentric being, a delicate but lethal creature, now foreign to the world. She gazed back down at the photos, and as she saw the captured memories of her friends, her free hand quivering, covered her mouth, muffling a sob that escaped her lips. And at that instant, her heart, her life, broke apart...
July 23, 2009 Farewell
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When it's not worth dying for?
Does it take your breath away
And you feel yourself suffocating?
Does the pain weigh out the pride?
And you look for a place to hide?
Did someone break your heart inside?
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
When you're at the end of the road
And you lost all sense of control
And your thoughts have taken their toll
When your mind breaks the spirit of your soul
Your faith walks on broken glass
And the hangover doesn't pass
Nothing's ever built to last
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
Did you try to live on your own
When you burned down the house and home?
Did you stand too close to the fire
Like a liar looking for forgiveness from a stone?
When it's time to live and let die
And you can't get another try
Something inside this heart has died
You're in ruins
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky
One, 21 guns
Lay down your arms, give up the fight
One, 21 guns
Throw up your arms into the sky, you and I
21 Guns by Green Day – Somehow the song spoke to her like a prayer with a hidden message
She gave up.
Monique sat in a once filled train compartment, clutching onto a sheet of parchment that rested on her lap. Her eyes never left Hogwart’s castle. She trained them to transfix themselves on it, until it was no longer in her view. Marvelling at the aging walls, and glorious but somewhat menacing architecture, she knew that this had been her home all these years. Parting with the memories wounded her inside. A dull throbbing ache in her heart formed, and a pull in her stomach begged her for her to return. This was where she grew physically and mentally, and leaving it torn away another fragment of her shattered heart.
The Hogwarts Express train rattled slightly as it gradually increased speed. Tears pricked her eyes, as her childhood soon merged with the endless horizon. A sudden urge swept over her. It attempted to force hey body to run back to its home. Everything about Hogwarts—the paved stones to the diverse students—were a part of her. That’s was too also the reason why she didn’t have the inner strength to bid farewell in person to everyone she loved. She all too knew the answer that if she had gone to say goodbye, she’d never find the chance again to leave. Her mind would instantly change as it already had over and over. Every ticking moment she spent pushed her closer to others, and she was already dangerously too close to some particular others.
She needed to begin anew. Become a whole new person, surrounded by others who don’t quite have a clue on who she was. She needed to compose herself. She needed to be whole one more. But, hiding from her life at Hogwarts, made her heart emptier than before. She scolded at herself for accepting the vacancy of her soul. But she taught her mind to remember one thing, one other motive that drove her to leave Hogwarts; no one gave her a good reason to stay, to prove her wrong and she knew that she wasn’t wanted. She was just another S
