CURSED [D.M]

-(3) you sure it's nothing?

ZILLIAH doesn't get a single ounce of sleep. She tries, really really tries, for she was completely exhausted. But her nemesis, that bastard cousin of death, doesn't show her the slightest mercy. Maybe it's because she isn't accustomed to this new surrounding, she tries telling herself. Maybe it's because she is away from home.

Lie. A complete utter lie. She knows it. For she is far safer here than back at that place she so resentfully has to call "home". But feigning no difference did the nightmares come- both at home and here, at Hogwarts.

But she isn't letting this moronic sleep crush her spirits. Sure, she needs it. But if the clockworks of her mind fail to give her the peace she desires, then there is nothing else she could do but occupy herself with something as a distraction. For that, so stubbornly does she grab hold of her copy of 'The Secret History by Donna Tartt', that she almost knocks over the bottle on her nightstand. Pansy would've killed her if she had.

At that thought, Zilliah looks over at her, blanketed in three layers, her features soft and at ease. She knows Pansy isn't necessarily a cow as Hermione had said, for she has been nothing but welcoming and friendly to Zilliah. Perhaps, she has a sturdy and strong exterior most people aren't fond of. But Zilliah is sure that by melting that barrier way, she could unlock a heart full of love and loyalty. She feels it lurking beneath her eyes, refusing to let itself shine in the light.

Ignoring Millicent's loud snores, she diverts her attention back to the book in hand. And luckily, she has a mini lamplight with her that doesn't emit too much light to wake either of them but just enough so that it would help her read. So plopping down on her belly, facing the window, outside which the moon and the stars hang above, she smiles and devours the book for the night, fully content even though she is drained of everything in her.

"It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves?"

Ha Ha! Books exist for a reason you fucking son of a bitch!

That was to Sleep, by the way.

She reads through the night as the hours melt by and surprisingly soon enough there is the sunlight peeking through the window, reflecting off the lake. It shouldn't be much of a surprise though as it is a reoccurring incident in her life. But it still amazes her how time can fly within the pages of a book, immersed in an alternative reality, away from all her pain and worries.

But the sunlight. She isn't quite fond of it actually. She wishes that it could remain night forever- only the moon and stars to keep her company- and her books, of course. She wishes that the days could cease to exist. Well, there is only one tiny problem there. You see, without the sunlight, the plants wouldn't be able to photosynthesise and produce oxygen and all humans would.. like- you know, die.

Just a tiny problem.

She pulls the covers over her face as the sun rises further up, shining brighter, very much to her dislike.

And that's when- let's have a round of applause- that's when she falls asleep.

Thanks, you fucking moron.

She is utterly confused as she is awoken by a lot of shaking as if she was trapped in a blender. She struggles to open her eyes against all the light pouring into the room that makes her head hurt. "What the fuck-"

Pansy stands by the side of her bed, wearing her crisply ironed uniform, her hair braided and her face glossy. She looks like a beautiful sea nymph and Zilliah would've actually thought her to be one if it weren't for the disappointed mom look that is spread across her features. "It's already morning, you dimbo! Get ready. Class starts in fifteen."