Fic: "Inescapable" for emcue
Title: Inescapable
Author: sinicalsarchasm
Recipient's name: emcue, who requested "For Ginny: I want it to focus on her first year, when she becomes possessed by Voldemort in diary format. I want to see what she writes, how she goes through things - we get glimpses of this in the book, but I'd love someone to expound on this. To show if it's scary, what Ginny's thoughts are about it. Can just be one particular day or the end right before she throws the diary into the girls'toilet." I hope this is something like what you wanted.
Summary: True madness is knowing the folly of one's actions and going on with them anyway. Ginny is truly mad.
Rating: PG-13 for dark themes and a little blood.
Word Count: 1008 words
When she says she thinks she's going crazy, the other girls giggle and turn away uncomfortably. Only Luna Lovegood listens, and she says that there is nothing wrong with Ginny.
Ginny isn't sure which reaction she prefers, because she is very, very sure that there is something terribly wrong, and nobody, nobody will see it. But how can you rid yourself of something that might not even be there?
For all they say about keeping up appearances, she just doesn't want to any more.
But somehow she does in spite of herself.
And she says she's alright. She puts on a pretty face.
But night falls, and she shakes, and shakes, but cannot cry.
Dear Tom, I think I'm going crazy.
No.
He tells her she isn't, in words that wrap tight around her like comforting arms, but words that suffocate her too, and when she hears him saying it, it isn't Luna Lovegood dreamy, it is absolute certainty. It is no-holds-barred, I-know-who-you are certainty. It is inescapable.
It is Tom, and she wishes she could hate it.
If anyone, anyone, even Luna, would only say the words.
“You're crazy,” Ginny whispers to herself, but it doesn't mean a thing.
Nothing you say means anything when you can't trust yourself, and promises you make yourself you're sure to break..
If anyone would say it, maybe she would feel it, maybe she could escape.
If.
You're not very happy, are you, Ginny?
No. No, I'm not.
You can tell me about it.
She can tell him. She can't tell him.
She must.
Tom, what's happening to me?
You're growing up.
Harry hates me, and my brothers think I'm silly. Only Loony Lovegood wants to spend time with me, and she's
Crazy.
Yeah.
It gets better.
Tom says everything Ginny wants to believes.
It is only a matter of time before she believes everything he says. It's only natural.
Isn't it?
This has to end. I think I'm losing myself.
No, it doesn't. No, you're not.
No, it doesn't. No, I'm not.
Ginny's footsteps echo loud in the empty Hogwarts corriders. There is something terribly unnerving in being the only one under those high ceilings, in those passageways that should be teeming with her classmates.
Walking down them, Ginny stops hearing her own footsteps. All she hears is a buzzing in her head, indistinct murmurs. They are saying something, she thinks, but she cannot make it out.
Soon she forgets even that.
It is ok. It is not.
You look like him, Tom.
Yes?
Yes. Do you love me, Tom?
Yes. I love you.
We often underestimate what someone will pay for love. We often overestimate what love is worth.
The next day Ginny finds blood on her hands. She doesn't know where it came from, and she starts to cry dry sobs. As the sobs subside, she remember Tom's words: “I love you.”
She wipes the tears from her face, and the blood that stains her cheeks make it look almost as though she's blushing.
Tom?
Ginny.
Have you ever wanted to die?
No. Never.
Me neither.
“Ginny?”
“Yeah, Luna?”
“Who's Tom?”
Ginny must look shocked, because Luna's eyebrows are raised, even over their normally high arches.
“Why? When did I mention a Tom?” Her voice shakes, but Luna pretends not to notice. Ginny is angry and grateful.
“Last night. You were asleep.”
“Oh. He's no one.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“”
“Luna?”
“Ginny?”
“Will you stay up with me tonight?”
Luna does not ask Ginny why she doesn't want to sleep.
Ginny does not sleep for four nights.
On the fifth night, she does not remember what she does. She wakes up in her bed the next morning, far from the room she'd been hiding in. She can't remember ever leaving it.
She is scared, at first.
Tom reassures her.
Don't worry, Ginny. It's fine. You're fine.
Professor Dumbledore asks her one day in the hallway if she is quite sure that everything is all right.
For a moment, she wants to tell him everything.
Then she remembers that she doesn't even know what everything is. If she knew what everything was, she might not be in this mess, whatever it is, in the first place, or at least she might be out of it by now, and besides, maybe everything is nothing, but she knows it's not, and she wants to cry, or scream, or something --
“It's fine,” she says instead.
He walks away.
I'm afraid of everyone, Tom.
I was, too.
I'm afraid of me.
Tom would never walk away.
Tom would never let her walk away.
There is a comfort in her prison, a constant, Tom. She is scared of it, but she is also scared of what she will be without it.
Or what she might not be.
Why did you do it, Ginny?
I - I'm sorry. I was scared.
Are you still scared?
Yes.
She has tried everything. Crying, she flushed the diary. She thought she was rid of it forever. She tried telling Harry and Ron, but they ignored her just like Tom had said they would.
It all hurt so much, and none of it meant anything. In the end, it all comes round again.
She isn't sure who is more real anymore - she or Tom.
She isn't sure she cares.
When Ginny is with Tom, she has someone to share with, to talk with, to cry with. To be with, and to never feel alone.
When Ginny is without him, she has never been more alone.
Why?
Why what?
Never mind.
You can tell me. You can tell me anything.
Why is everything so wrong?
Nothing is wrong. She is living in the world-as-it-should-be. She is okay.
She wants to believe it. She must.
She is 11.
Trust me.
I trust you, Tom. I trust you completely.
The next thing she remembers, it is dark, and she is shaking, and a black-haired boy is her savior.
Nothing has changed, and she cries.
Author: sinicalsarchasm
Recipient's name: emcue, who requested "For Ginny: I want it to focus on her first year, when she becomes possessed by Voldemort in diary format. I want to see what she writes, how she goes through things - we get glimpses of this in the book, but I'd love someone to expound on this. To show if it's scary, what Ginny's thoughts are about it. Can just be one particular day or the end right before she throws the diary into the girls'toilet." I hope this is something like what you wanted.
Summary: True madness is knowing the folly of one's actions and going on with them anyway. Ginny is truly mad.
Rating: PG-13 for dark themes and a little blood.
Word Count: 1008 words
When she says she thinks she's going crazy, the other girls giggle and turn away uncomfortably. Only Luna Lovegood listens, and she says that there is nothing wrong with Ginny.
Ginny isn't sure which reaction she prefers, because she is very, very sure that there is something terribly wrong, and nobody, nobody will see it. But how can you rid yourself of something that might not even be there?
For all they say about keeping up appearances, she just doesn't want to any more.
But somehow she does in spite of herself.
And she says she's alright. She puts on a pretty face.
But night falls, and she shakes, and shakes, but cannot cry.
Dear Tom, I think I'm going crazy.
No.
He tells her she isn't, in words that wrap tight around her like comforting arms, but words that suffocate her too, and when she hears him saying it, it isn't Luna Lovegood dreamy, it is absolute certainty. It is no-holds-barred, I-know-who-you are certainty. It is inescapable.
It is Tom, and she wishes she could hate it.
If anyone, anyone, even Luna, would only say the words.
“You're crazy,” Ginny whispers to herself, but it doesn't mean a thing.
Nothing you say means anything when you can't trust yourself, and promises you make yourself you're sure to break..
If anyone would say it, maybe she would feel it, maybe she could escape.
If.
You're not very happy, are you, Ginny?
No. No, I'm not.
You can tell me about it.
She can tell him. She can't tell him.
She must.
Tom, what's happening to me?
You're growing up.
Harry hates me, and my brothers think I'm silly. Only Loony Lovegood wants to spend time with me, and she's
Crazy.
Yeah.
It gets better.
Tom says everything Ginny wants to believes.
It is only a matter of time before she believes everything he says. It's only natural.
Isn't it?
This has to end. I think I'm losing myself.
No, it doesn't. No, you're not.
No, it doesn't. No, I'm not.
Ginny's footsteps echo loud in the empty Hogwarts corriders. There is something terribly unnerving in being the only one under those high ceilings, in those passageways that should be teeming with her classmates.
Walking down them, Ginny stops hearing her own footsteps. All she hears is a buzzing in her head, indistinct murmurs. They are saying something, she thinks, but she cannot make it out.
Soon she forgets even that.
It is ok. It is not.
You look like him, Tom.
Yes?
Yes. Do you love me, Tom?
Yes. I love you.
We often underestimate what someone will pay for love. We often overestimate what love is worth.
The next day Ginny finds blood on her hands. She doesn't know where it came from, and she starts to cry dry sobs. As the sobs subside, she remember Tom's words: “I love you.”
She wipes the tears from her face, and the blood that stains her cheeks make it look almost as though she's blushing.
Tom?
Ginny.
Have you ever wanted to die?
No. Never.
Me neither.
“Ginny?”
“Yeah, Luna?”
“Who's Tom?”
Ginny must look shocked, because Luna's eyebrows are raised, even over their normally high arches.
“Why? When did I mention a Tom?” Her voice shakes, but Luna pretends not to notice. Ginny is angry and grateful.
“Last night. You were asleep.”
“Oh. He's no one.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“”
“Luna?”
“Ginny?”
“Will you stay up with me tonight?”
Luna does not ask Ginny why she doesn't want to sleep.
Ginny does not sleep for four nights.
On the fifth night, she does not remember what she does. She wakes up in her bed the next morning, far from the room she'd been hiding in. She can't remember ever leaving it.
She is scared, at first.
Tom reassures her.
Don't worry, Ginny. It's fine. You're fine.
Professor Dumbledore asks her one day in the hallway if she is quite sure that everything is all right.
For a moment, she wants to tell him everything.
Then she remembers that she doesn't even know what everything is. If she knew what everything was, she might not be in this mess, whatever it is, in the first place, or at least she might be out of it by now, and besides, maybe everything is nothing, but she knows it's not, and she wants to cry, or scream, or something --
“It's fine,” she says instead.
He walks away.
I'm afraid of everyone, Tom.
I was, too.
I'm afraid of me.
Tom would never walk away.
Tom would never let her walk away.
There is a comfort in her prison, a constant, Tom. She is scared of it, but she is also scared of what she will be without it.
Or what she might not be.
Why did you do it, Ginny?
I - I'm sorry. I was scared.
Are you still scared?
Yes.
She has tried everything. Crying, she flushed the diary. She thought she was rid of it forever. She tried telling Harry and Ron, but they ignored her just like Tom had said they would.
It all hurt so much, and none of it meant anything. In the end, it all comes round again.
She isn't sure who is more real anymore - she or Tom.
She isn't sure she cares.
When Ginny is with Tom, she has someone to share with, to talk with, to cry with. To be with, and to never feel alone.
When Ginny is without him, she has never been more alone.
Why?
Why what?
Never mind.
You can tell me. You can tell me anything.
Why is everything so wrong?
Nothing is wrong. She is living in the world-as-it-should-be. She is okay.
She wants to believe it. She must.
She is 11.
Trust me.
I trust you, Tom. I trust you completely.
The next thing she remembers, it is dark, and she is shaking, and a black-haired boy is her savior.
Nothing has changed, and she cries.