Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2013 1:04:29 GMT -8
Everything she did was so agonizing, her words pierced through his outter wall like a molten spear. It burned, and it was clear the Rodolphus was the more sought after between the two. Dinner was a bust. Rabastan should have stayed in the Slytherin Common room or pulled Rod into the forbidden forest until this entire weekend was over. Instead he did the most idiotic thing he could have even mustered up. Speaking out of turn and completely ruining his families reputation before nearly the entire pureblood community. That was a low blow on his part but the fact of the matter was, it happened to be long overdue. It was about time someone stood up against the Lestrange family even if it was their own son.
After that fiasco Rabastan had decided to retire without a word. Completely certain that Lyra would rope Rodolphus into something and he wouldn't be there in order to stop it from happening. The images were so clear in his head that all the boy could do was rub his eyes with the back of his hands. Turning from the Great Hall, Rabastan didn't even bother looking behind him, but he knew what he had to do. Steal. After the little outburst in the hall he was certain that they would possibly write him out so he had to do the next best thing, something he had planned on doing for a very long time. Footsteps quickening as he descended into the dungeons, the corridors were silent and that was exactly what he needed right now. Finding solace in the enclosing darkness and silence was something he could always rely on and he was not short of accepting it.
The Slytherin Common Room was bare. Not one student was left behind sitting on the long couches or in the chairs before the firepit. No, they were all upstairs getting chummy with their parents. It was in that moment that Rabastan decided to let go. A deafening scream boiled up and out of his lungs and in one swift movement anything that happened to be on a table ended up on the floor. Anger filled him deeply as he pulled his wand from its place up in his sleeve. Wood splintered, the couches tore, edges of frayed paintings erupted into small tatters of fabric. Pages from dozens of books were up in the air.
Even now, at sixteen years old the Slytherin boy could not prevent his brother from further mental damage, but this tantrum wasn't planned, none of his words were. If it wasn't for Rodolphus he wouldn't have been here. Rab didn't want the attention like he had led on about. Instead he would rather sit back and watch everything happen, every move made and every shifty eye gaze. It was in his nature to be observant and here he was letting all of his rage get the better of him. Glass shattered across the floor as did water as it swirled and rolled down the few steps that lead toward the dorm rooms and soaking the rug that lay across the stony floor of the main sitting area.
Rabastan didn't realize that tears were streaming from his eyes in the midst of all this unforseen anger. Grabbing a bottle of alcohol from one of the cabinets he let the poison fill his mouth before it warmed his skin. Casting the bottle aside he continued on with his rampage. Not entirely sure what else he could destroy he still managed to destroy it. Chips of stone were filling the air as he let hexes and curses fly at the walls. Letting a cruciatus curse go and an explosion of sparks crackled through the heavy space around him. Red light bounced from the smooth walls before he whipped his wand toward a book case, flames erupted from the dry paper and wood.
Brow dripping with sweat, Rab reached across the back of the torn and fluffy couch to pull a thick quill out of a drawer. Beginning to stab the leather cushions over and over again until the couch was devoid of all filling. He was devoid of all feeling. Everything seemed so empty. The bottle of alcohol was empty and Rabastan held himself up with his hand pressed against wall. A slight swagger in his step he moved flawlessly across the destruction riddled floor. Eyes empty of any emotion, he slowly began to close himself off from the outside world. Even though the common room was completely bare of any living being, Rabastan ignored his surroundings. Finding the stairs was simple, but the climb was slow and treacherous. Falling the steps a fair amount of times, Rab finally made it to the point he was trying to reach.
Once inside the dorm room he cracked open his trunk and pulled out a small wooden box. Something he treasured so dearly and stripped off his jacket letting it drap over his pressed sheets. Shower, he needed a hot burning shower to wash away his guilt and treason. Rab started the water turning the knob to scalding, it was his only escape from anything in life. Grabbing his effects and removing the rest of his clothes, the boy's skin instantly turned red.
Following through with his daily ritual, Rabastan meticulously cleaned his skin, scrubbing away at any defects. Surprised that there was nothing lodged in his skin from the freak out earlier he sighed and lifted up the metal razor. The blade was long and shining from the water around him. Catching a glimpse of his own eyes from the steely edge, nothing he could feel nothing in that seemingly bland stare. Letting the edge touch the tip of the finger, small red droplets began to form before they were whisked away in the steaming water.
Letting his head rest against the tile of the shower, Rab closed his eyes as he felt the steel instrument between his fingers. A swift motion, nothing. No pain, he couldn't feel not that time. Today was Friday, something had to of pushed him over the edge, Friday was the only day in the week that started with a 'F' and that was a bad thing. Only Tuesdays and Thursdays, occasionally Saturdays and Sundays, but any other day of the week that normally never happened. Rubbing his eyes with his left hand he watched the red mix with the clear as it formed an almost pinkish pool at his feet. The swirl as it went down the drain was most intoxicating and he couldn't fathom what it would be like if he too were to follow the reddish liquid. Another go, barely. This time the color of the water shifted ever so slightly. More red than pink and it was an insane notion.
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The blood rolled down his side, moving to every curve of his body, but the familiar sting that came with his own mutliation never arose. Once more and pain seared through his side like it was supposed to, that numb feeling he had was replaced with the sharp and aching pain, but it came at a price. Hunching over in the boiling water Rabastan gasped for air. What was once a swell of pink tinted water was now turning more and more red by the second. Panic came to his chest as his lungs lacked in filling with air, inhaling the steam slowly.
It was a blur. Moments later Rab realized what had happened, reaching out for the towel he almost lost his foothold, fingers curling around the object he pulled it into the shower with him. Blade clanging to the floor of the stall. Heartbeat pounding deeply in his ears he knew that he made a mistake. What the hell was he thinking, was he even thinking? Trying to slow his breathing, Rabastan attempted everything to stop the bleeding, turning off the water, towel soaking wet he tried but everything started to go slow. His hands were moving with an irregular motion as he tried to tie it off, but it was failing.
Pulling back the curtain he stumbled forward and used the sink as a brace, slipping on the liquid. Blood was everywhere on his hands, his feet, now smeared across the floor. Tying the towel off across his waist Rabastan fumbled for anything that could stop the bleeding, a tonic anything. Sheer panic crossed his face, glass started to shatter around him, he didn't want to die, not like this. Sure he wanted to go out with a bang, but not this way. He only wanted to feel, and right now he was feeling everything. His wand was across the counter in the bathroom, but he was afraid that if he let go of the counter he would slip and hit the floor. Do or die. Reaching for his wand, Rabastan's vision started to go black at the edges, onces his fingers wrapped around the hilt he hit the floor. Feet flying out from beneath him, too weak to stand up he lay there, staring at the base of the toilet, blood running freely across the tiled floor. Curling in on himself as he battled with consciousness, failure.
"I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed, I failed." He repeated the words over and over in his mind until his vision was completely gone. Face down in a pool of his own blood. His mind was moving though, fingers twitching. The poor boy didn't even notice that the tip of his wand had snapped clean off. He was useless now. That was unless someone came across and helped, and fast.
