Thorns, Lovely Thorns

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Pick your poison

I'll pick mine

chug a beer

and I'll cut a line

your blood shot eyes

my blood smeared wrist

run away mad

soon the blade will twist

stumbling off wasted

your image fills my head

as you lose consciousness

and I bleed out dead

~ BloodyBrokenAngel on poems-and-quotes

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Song: Breaking Benjamin -- Hopeless
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My senses were hazed over with what seemed to be fear. My breath was hastened in distress. Although the moment of concern had already past, I was still in the state of shock. My body was left trembling viciously, beads of sweat appeared on my forehead, the palm of my hands began to slip off my arm rest. My teeth chattered, my legs shook, My eyes scanned the area, but registered only darkness. My emotions were numb, but grief and anger rose up my neck just enough to be registered.

It was hard to believe I was just before the magical court, in front of many people and one person in the middle, all watching me curiously. Nothing was ever able to make me this emotionless, not even my parents dieing. He was asking me something, but all I heard was screaming in my ears. What had happened but a few hours before, it would haunt me, caress my every being in darkness.
I was lost . . . Maybe forever

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My body was lain in a heap, very uncomfortable and it pulled my limbs ways that it hurt. My heart was barely beating, blood had escaped where my capture had beaten me. Scratches, bruises covered my body to make me look somewhat of a person who had been in a minor car accident.

My body was bare, allowing the dirt and grim upon the floor to collect on my bosom and stomach. The numbness had taken over by the time I had got the wounds. The words got lost before they made it out of my mouth. My captors face had always been one of anger, and what he held anger for was my lack of words. I would occasionally hurt him, but I somehow wasn't able to get out, I was sick, My body raged with a huge fever, but my body trembled with chill. His laughter echoed through the Filthy room.

Lights Flashed on, causing my eyes to close painfully.There he stood, watching me, grinning with an evil glint in his eyes. I shivered as he pulled out a thin stick, his wand. He tucked his brown hair behind his ear softly, whispering 1 of the 3 curses.

My body ached, writhed and screamed. Tears fell from my eyes and blood came out of my nose.

"Where. Are. They!" He shouted at me, His face twisting into an ugly scowl. I kept my chapped lips closed. "Petigrew!" Tom said, his eyes grew cold and distant. I glared at him, my body bleeding on the ground. The Small boy I knew walked into the room, spotting me on the ground then turning to Tom, bowing his head as if he was a lord. I felt disgusted. "Where are the potters?" He asked, I starred at Worm tail, shock plagued my whole body. I let out a soft cry before I heard him say the address of our friends. I felt betrayed and hopeless, I let myself fall, deep into darkness. i didn't want to wake up . . .

--__--

I remember when Tom Riddle was a child, a small, devilish child. He wasn't innocent at all, but neither was I. Of course, I wasn't a child. Far from it actually. Those years were the best, although they also hurt me the most . . .