Black Swan

Chapter 10- Coward

*Ophelia*

The breakfast date had replayed over and over again in my head. His smirk. His laugh. His actual kind nature.

I pushed down the butterflies, walking towards the great hall.

I find a seat at the Slytherin table spotting Draco walk in after me, spotting me and sitting opposite me.
I give a quick smile, and begin filling my plate with different kinds of food, planning on eating it all.
I notice Draco watching me, a blush rising on my cheeks as I spot him grin at me. I think about the breakfast date.

He liked my company!

I glance down the table forcing the butterflies back down. Turning back and shoving food into my mouth refusing to look back up.

Suddenly a squawk emits through the hall as an owl flies through the hall, swooping above me and dropping a letter, landing on the table pecking at its leg.

I pat the owl on the head "thanks Binx" and he flies away towards the owl sanctuary, eager for food.

I look at the letter, my throat tightening as it stares back at me.

I look up. Draco is watching me, concern etched on his face, his fork still clasped in his hand.
I open it. Hands shaking as I scan over the words and the letters.


My throat clenches and my stomach flips, the food I ate threatening to come back up.

He's gone. My dad is gone.

My breathing hitches in my chest. The room becoming small and cramped.

I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I can't breathe. I-

"Em Clark. Can I speak to you for a second" my head snaps up. My breathing coming back and my eyes focussing.

Marcus Flint. What the holy
Fuck.

"Please. Can we go talk. It won't take long." His eyes are bruised, cuts and gashes littering his face. He was barely recognisable.

My throat tightens again and I stand. Hands resting on the desk.

"No Marcus. I will not "come with you". I don't want you anywhere near me EVER again. You tried to RAPE me!!"
I scream not holding back anymore. Slamming my hands on the table, people from around the hall beginning to stare.

"You are nothing. You are worthless. You are a COWARD Marcus Flint. You are a pig. Someone who deserves to be in Azkaban. I am never going to be able to get YOU, or the FEELING of you out of my mind. I can't sleep because of you, and your hands. And your stupid fucking grunting. Because you ENJOYED hurting me. Because you were so fucking horny. You are a monster Marcus, and I hope that you spend every single day thinking about me and what you done.
And I hope that if ever have children, that nobody EVER touches them like you touched me. Because they will never be able to sleep soundly again. Do not ever come near me again. Or I swear on Voldemort himself. I will kill you."

I grab my bag, running out the hall as tears spilled down my face.

Of all fucking times for him to appear. Why now!? My dad is dead and now THIS??

I run down corridors, unable to see or think, my breathing ragged and painful, fire searing up my lungs, burning after every inhale.
I could feel myself unhinge, cracks appearing on my skin like ice splintering under someone's
Weight.
I fling open a classroom, slamming the door shut and throwing my bag down into the floor. Sobs racking me.
I untie my tie, fiddling with the knot and then letting it fall to the ground. I kick my shoes off next, kicking them as far as they would go. Hearing them clatter as I turn, the air getting thinner and thinner.
I pull my robe off me, taking my phone and letting the robe drop to the floor.
Unlocking my phone I do the one thing I know how to do, and that's dance. Deciding on a song and letting it begin, allowing the beats and instruments to fill the room.

Calm. Hungry. Beating.
I need to breathe.

The song starts off slow. The piano filling the room. And I let it enter me.
Throwing my hands up, arching my back and letting my head roll, the strings of the guitar beginning to pluck beside it.
My hair falls back as I bend back, sliding onto the floor allowing the violins to sweep under me. Bi bring myself back up, my leg pointed out as I spin. The music getting higher and more intense, instruments joining together in one big heartbeat.
I jump in the air, my legs lifting into a perfect line as I come back down to the floor as if I'm weightless, rolling over into me stomach. Pulling myself up by my back. My hair covering my face as I allow my head to roll again, the drums of the music becoming my beat as my heart steadies out.

Finally feeling like I was home.

I run forward at a fast speed, jumping and twisting in mid air, feeling my foot touch my head as I come back down, landing in my knees effortlessly as I flip onto my feet once again, not thinking about what move comes next, my arms moving around me like the wind. The cello's bursting through my lungs.
The music is getting faster. More urgent. The violins becoming angry, almost like they were shouting for the main attention, pushing above the piano and Cello as the guitar hid in the back, allowing the instruments of pain to jump forward. It too propelling me to lean as far back as I could, seeing stars as I snapped back up giving myself whiplash. The chords pulling my chest this way then that way as I danced.
I dropped low, my hair touching the ground arms swaying, reaching out to the side as if I was falling. Twisting my body around.

The music is daring, angry. Acknowledging my pain and anger. Allowing me to feel it. To hold it and to allow it to hurt. Sweat forming on my chest as I dance. Feeling like I'm flying as the air catches me and the light projects shadows around the room.
I turn again and stop. Letting out a scream, it ripped from my stomach like a tsunami. The chords of my throat winning the battle of being heard, my screaming clashing with the powerful notes of the song, the ice finally smashing.
The fire from my lungs finally breaking through, burning my throat and heating up the room as the song closed.
I drop to the floor. Screaming and clawing at my chest praying for it to stop. Stop hurting. Stop burning. Begging it to just be quiet.

The floor creaks and I look up....



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