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Post by lukejordan on Feb 26, 2012 23:10:56 GMT
Trent strode through the corridors of St Mungo’s, nerves and anxiousness and a terrible fear clenched like a tight ball in his stomach. Heedless of his surroundings, he walked mechanically, mind still reeling after the news that the Headmaster had pulled him out of class to deliver that morning. At first he’d thought it was something to do with his parents, but then that vague hope had been shattered when Dumbledore opened his mouth and spoke the words that had dropped the bottom out of his stomach and caused his heart to skip a beat.
”Mr Rockwell, I’m afraid there is no gentle way to say this, so I shall be frank with you.”
[/i] The Headmaster had said, “Mr Parker, who I understand is a close friend of yours, is currently in St Mungo’s recovering from exposure to the Cruciatus Curse after he and several other students were attacked sometime last night.”[/i] Dumbledore had said more, Trent knew, but he hadn’t been able to hear it through the ringing in his ears and the rising wave of nausea. He had known Lachlan was a perfect target for blood purists, Trent thought savagely; he had known and he hadn’t been able to protect him. When Lachie didn’t return to the commonroom the night before and he’d tossed and turned all night wondering where he was he should have gone and told Professor Sprout, and then maybe his best friend wouldn’t be in hospital. He’d failed to protect Lachlan, and Trent wasn’t sure if he could face his friend knowing that he could have protected him if he’d only been smarter and paid more attention. But Trent knew he had to see Lachlan; to apologize and seek forgiveness that he knew he didn’t deserve. He opened the door and stepped inside the ward, terror clenching at his heart that Lachlan would tell him to get out, would hate him for having failed to protect him. And part of Trent welcomed the thought, knowing that he should be hated for what he’d allowed to happen to Lachlan, the best friend he’d ever had and who he had never deserved, especially now. ”Lachie?,” He called out hesitantly, waiting for an invitation to come inside, ”It’s Trent.”[/blockquote][/blockquote] OOC: Sorry it's so awful and crap and stuff  |
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Post by lachlanparker on Feb 28, 2012 0:20:31 GMT
Human-like shapes drifted around Lachlan's naked and fragile body. No, Lachlan said, please don't hurt me, I never did - AHHHHHHHHHH. An unbearable pain. Cackling faces. One of the figures bent over, and ... Lachlan sat bolt upright, his chest heaving. His grey shirt was drenched with sweat and his fringe stuck to his face like wart-plaster. Without having time to process what he had just dreamt, his body started shaking in convulsions, the tears streaming down both sides of his face. Is this what he was going to have to live through every night? The Dreamless Sleep Potion wasn't working and Lachlan's mind was too overactive for the dreams to go away. He was scared to sleep, scared to eat and scared to leave the room in which he was now confined to. --- Emily and Marlene were out cold, lying in the beds either side of him. Lachlan lay in his bed, awake, unable to muster the energy to do anything. There were dark, bruise-like circles under his face and his lips were chapped and peeling. Food was no use, all it did was come back up. His eyes were fixated, unmoving and unblinking, at the ceiling above him as small noises echoed around his ears. It was hard to tell if they were real or not, or just echoes of the sounds he could not forget from that night in the forest. A familiar voice broke the silence and Lachlan managed to peel his eyes away from the spot on the ceiling and fix them on Trent, who was standing hesitantly in the doorway. "Come in," Lachlan whispered back. He didn't want to wake Marlene and Emily. They'd been through so much and were well deserving of the rest they so desperately needed. Lachlan pulled up his legs underneath the blanket so that Trent could sit down at the end of the bed. "Long time no see," Lachlan smiled bleakly, showing off his parched and cracked lips.
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Post by lukejordan on Mar 5, 2012 11:16:14 GMT
Hearing Lachie call out an invitation, Trent stepped hesitantly into the ward. Moving as quietly as possible to avoid waking Marlene and Emily, who he could see lying in beds on the far side of the room, he made his way over to his best friend’s bed. A wave of nausea passed over Trent as he took in the site of his best friend – his brother, lying in a hospital bed, and he unconsciously let out a soft moan of distress. Lachlan looked awful; huge bags under eyes red-rimmed and swollen with weeping, lips parched and cracked and chewed raw, pallid skin covered in a glaze of sweat.
And it was Trent’s fault.
”I know – a whole three days.” Trent tried for a flippant tone, but barely managed to force the words out past the lump in his throat, and the sarcasm came out hollow and empty. Conjuring himself a chair, Trent settled himself by Lachlan’s side and slowly reached out a hand towards his friend, watching for any sign of distress or fear. Casual touch had always been part of their friendship; both of them physically affectionate people, and it hurt Trent to think that he now needed to treat his friend like a wild animal who might panic at any touch or sudden movement.
And it was all Trent's fault.
”So, how’re you holding up?” Trent asked with a tremulous smile, trying hard to hold back tears as he gazed upon the full reality of what had been done to Lachlan. The Headmaster and Madame Pomfrey had tried to warn him what to expect, but nothing could have prepared him for finding a broken shadow of a person in place of his bright and lively friend.
And it was all his fault.
OOC: Muse, why you so unreliable? Sorry for the short-and-crapiness. |
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