Damn Car
Viopathartic
"What are you doing?" Dr. Kern had to ask as she watched her murderer and/or schizophrenic patient. Harry Potter was currently searching the room, muttering about something along the lines of "candles".
Harry, finally finding some candlesticks hidden in a compartment of the desk, placed the candles on its surface and headed over to the curtains. With a swoosh, he closed the drapes so that the room was now completely rid of light.
"Trying to be emo. Duh." Harry turned around and stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Why are you--" The doctor was speechless, her mind momentarily frozen as she watched Harry sit down in the farthest corner from her seat and lit two candlesticks. Next, Harry pulled out a book, which looked suspiciously like The Raven by Edgar Allan Poe. His elbow rested on the armchair of the burgundy colored chair, and his cheek leant against his palm. Strands of raven colored hair fell forward and obscured part of his face.
"Er...alright." In school, people learned that psychologists were always to remain cool, calm, and unaffected. They would deal with all cases with the same behaviour, regardless of the case. But this...this was just too weird for her. "Now, Harry, you have been admitted to jail because of a murder charge. Why did you decide to "commit" such a crime?"
"Because..." Harry made a dramatic gesture with his hand. "Because...life...is full of misery and nothingness. Everyone will die sooner or later and will suffer in hell. There is no heaven, but just a bottomless pit of fire, pleading sinners, and perpetual life of pain. You and I will end up there eventually."
After he answered, he cast his head down, let out a dramatic sigh, and stared into the flickering light from the candles.
"I-interesting perspective of life."
"Thank you," Harry mumbled solemnly.
"Now I would--"
Harry stood straight up from his chair, so sudden that the furniture piece almost flipped over. He flicked his hair back and raised his arms to the heavens...if there were any in his depressed, morbid thoughts...
"A blackened sky amongst the wind--
speckled crystals light the way.
My hand is reaching for the moon
and clutched within reality.
A needful peace I wish to feel
but only demons bare their teeth.
A grave is dug for every painful
thought that dwells inside of me.
A mirrored imprint of the beast--
sacrifice of lulling screams.
I live this life and bare these scars
wallow in this barren tomb.
Shadows flit through somber eyes and
breathe the life that's lead by death.
Gloom is lacing burning veins that
comfort me with blood soaked hands.
Wolfish howls bouncing off of
boney tree's of melting ice.
Watch me fall into this waste
of vile sickened lustful hate.
This whitened world sheds light on pain,
mystic beauty shall enfold.
A blanket wrapped around my corpse
shrouded in these pale, bleak thoughts.
Thorns are sharp and pierce my skin,
they wrap around my pulsing lungs.
Growing, piercing, bleeding, spreading
encasing flesh of mournful dreams.
I've fallen far and lost my way,
I wandered down a darkened hall.
Met by fate and led astray,
I took a path to no return.
Moonlight dances high and bright,
bowing, leaping through my brain.
My heart is pounding in my chest-
intensity of endless strife.
I see the fear, it's just in sight
confronted by a wielding knife.
My wings are spread and painted black,
claimed by death, there's no way back.
I sold away my trust to him and
thought he was a harmless man.
Now I'm trapped inside a world of
veiling beauty midst despair.
Above my shell I wait to see
the angel of my dying wake.
One last glance upon my corpse,
splattered walls of past affliction.
My throat is cut to bleed the shame
a gutted cadavar, hung and bled.
No remorse, he mocks the hurt--
the hurt I tried so hard to hide.
Now I lay me down in death with
nightmares whispered in my head.
An evil grin and bleeding eyes,
toying with his hunting knife.
My body's stiff with rigor mortis,
a kiss upon these cold, blue lips.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Remnants float at heaven's door.
But! (Harry cried out!)
Something holds me down in place
I'm bound here screaming in this state.
Harry swooped down on Dr. Kern, slapping his hands on both sides of the armrest. The female doctor leaned back in fear.
"I pound my fists against the glass
that separates my hopeful quest.
I'm looking close, I see myself,
reflection of a broken soul."
Once the poem was finished, Harry collapsed to the floor and began to sob into his hands. As discreetly as possible, Kern slid her chair away from the pitiful creature on the floor.
"Harry. Mr. Potter, you must stand up and sit down so that we can finish this session." And so that I can quit my job, she thought mentally.
"I can't!" He sobbed even harder, sniffing (or snorting) loudly and pretending to wipe of imaginary snot with the sleeve of his jail suit.
"Why can't you?"
"I can't live without him!"
Oh. Dear. Lord.
"Who?" Dr. Kern gently tried to ask. The doctor has now lost the point of the session.
"Fred!"
"The guy who you beat up last week?"
"He was going to leave me." Harry mumbled before blowing his nose.
"Did you know him before getting admitted to this jail?"
"No," he explained, "but I knew I loved him. And now--And now--" Harry obnoxiously blew his nose. Dr. Kern tried to hold back the bile that was rising into her throat. He dropped to his knees and yelled out, "Oh woe is me!"
Dr. Kern briskly announced that their session was over. Harry hid his smirk as the doctor scurried out of the room. The officer, who was escorting him, stared perplexingly after her and then at Harry.
"Let's go."
Both of them made their way through the lobby to go to the cell room. They were almost there until a voice called out.
Harry's eyes widened.
He saw the red-haired monster coming closer. He felt his lungs being squeezed together and his body felt as if it was no longer his. He wanted...no, needed to get away. Away now. Away, away, away...NOW!
Why was she here? She didn't need to be here. He didn't want her here. So why doesn't she just leave him the fuck alone?
"Harry!" She exclaimed in her oh-so-annoying voice.
Harry acted quick and grabbed the nearest officer by the back of his neck. With such force, he brought the head down so that it would make contact with the edge of a desk. The injured officer groaned and slumped to the floor. His other team mate had seen this and immediately rushed to the scene. His gun was in his hands but his eyes remained on Harry.
"Now, son, don't do anything rash. Step away from--"
"Arrest me or I'll blow this guy's head off!"
The officer must have misheard. One: why did he want to be arrested? Two: The guy didn't even have a gun. "What--?"
"ARREST ME, GODDAMMIT!"
The officer saw that the teenage was getting distressed which could increase the amount of damage that he was capable of doing.
"Harry Potter, you are under arrest for the assault of a legal officer. You have--"
"Yeah, yeah let's skip that and put me in the slammer...NOW!" Harry, with his handcuffs still being put on, dragged the officer into the cell room, quickly slamming the door shut with his foot and leaning all of his weight against the door.
To answer the question that was written all over the officer's face, Harry breathed out, "Ex-girlfriend. Pyschomaniac. Never let her come near me or I will commit suicide in various ways."
"I don't understand!" Ginny whined, stomping her foot on the floor as she stood outside the jail.
"Oh no, it didn't work," Hermione whispered as she sat inside her father's car, watching Ginny. Remus, Ron, and Mr. Weasley accompanied her while they waited for her to come back.
"I told her. Harry broke up with her...three times. At Dumbledore's funeral, at Bill and Fleur's wedding, and right before he left (which was a month ago). But noooo...she insists that she would be able to get Harry out of jail."
"She just wants to see him and she's trying to get back together with Harry. She's not doing anything to help!" Hermione yelled, punching the dashboard with her fist.
She decided that it was enough.
"I'm going in!"
"But you can't apparate! This jailhouse is under Ministry of Magic's protection. There's anti-apparition wards all around.
"Do you think I'll be stupid enough to do that? Honestly," Hermione hissed, getting out of the driver's side of the car and slamming it shut. As she passed Ginny, the red-haired girl snatched her by the arm.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"Getting my best friend out of there and let go!"
"Oh no! I'm his girlfriend; I should be the one doing it!"
"News flash, you impudent girl! He broke up with you. He doesn't need you."
Hermione yanked her arm away and continued on until she was finally inside the jailhouse.
She met an officer in the lobby and he asked what she needn't.
"Harry Potter, please."
The officer, who was at the hands of Harry a moment before, immediately stiffened. His eyes flashed.
"I'm sorry, that is not possible."
"But I need to see him."
When Hermione realized the officer was not going to let her see him, she rushed past him, blindly running into the very area where Harry was staying.
"Hermione!" Harry exclaimed in surprise, getting up from the floor.
Hermione smiled, but their reunion was short-lived.
"Hey, Miss, I said you weren't allowed to see Harry Potter!" The officer approached Hermione from behind and lifted her by her arms.
"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed, her legs kicking as they left the ground. She struggled to break free, moving her hands and feet. While doing this, she "accidently" leaned back her head, smashing the officer's nose. Harry winced when he heard the crack and couldn't help but cover his crotch when Hermione's leg swung backwards right into...there.
The officer collapsed to his knees, his face turning dark shade of red. Hermione backed away, covering her mouth as she realized what she had just done.
"Oh no, oh no. Harry! W-what should I do?" The man continued to whimper in pain as Hermione continued to panic.
"Hermione! You're a witch!" Harry said, his mind immediately remembering back in first year when Harry and Ron were trapped in the Devil's Snare and Hermione was too worried to use her mind.
Hermione didn't seem to hear. Harry banged his head against the railing. It was no use. Even as he banged his head once...twice...three times, he could hear the hurried steps that sounded closer and closer.
Next thing he knew, Harry had a new roommate.
I cannot take credit for the little "emo" poetry in the middle. I took it off of a site. The poem was called Drained of Life and written by Nymphetamine Girl.
Hope you liked it.
Vio