King Of My Heart | R. BLACK

31 | horrid memories

The wall to her room was blank. It's always been blank. Or at least she was trying to convince herself it had always been blank because thinking about what used to be up there hurt too much.

The day she was finally brought home from the hospital was intended to be an easy one. Sirius and James were there with her parents. It went smoothly, at first, that is until she entered her room.

Because that wall wasn't always empty.

She hadn't even noticed, or even remembered it was there. It was such a seemingly insignificant thing that she never truly noticed. Not until now.

"You guys, I'm fine," she informed them as the three stopped outside of her room. "The doctors gave their stamp of approval for a reason. Now leave me alone?"

James hesitated, "You'll call if you need anything?"

She nodded and the boys reluctantly left the girl alone. Angela entered her room with a sigh of relief. And finally, she was greeted with silence.

She faltered slightly as she looked around her room. It had only been two months but it felt like it had been a lifetime. Her room had more color in it then she remembered, almost every section of the walls covered in something. It used to reflect how she viewed her world, but now not so much.

Now it was just a reminder that her whole life had been a lie.

Looking back, Angela may have been a little hasty with her actions but it was a necessity all the same.

As she turned around, taking in her room, she froze at the spot right next to her door. She stared at it, her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't move and she couldn't breathe as she took in the photos that were taped up to her wall. There were dozens from over the years of her and her friends. The friends she had spent that past month trying to forget about.

Her heart rate picked up as the images flashed through her head. Daisy's screams and pleading for help as the Death Eater's mercilessly butchered her. The whimpers she could hear when her arm had finally been torn off. Yes, Daisy was alive when that happened and from what Angela could tell, she had felt every second of it. The stench of the girl's body decaying was so strong it felt like Angela was back there. "Kill me," she had begged the boy and he hadn't. He couldn't do it because he was weak. She wished he would have done it.

She reached forward hastily, tearing the pictures down from the wall. Even through the tears, she could see the huge grins on Daisy, America and herself. They had been so happy. Key word being had.

America.

America was fine, America and her family were safe. But Daisy wasn't. Angela wasn't. Her family wasn't. But America was. America's family was. How was that fair? How was it that America so easily turned Daisy and Angela over to die merely to save herself? How incredibly selfish was that? To sacrifice someone else? There was nothing that could be done because America was fine and safe. What did it matter that two apparently insignificant girl's were thrown to death's feet when America was safe? They weren't friends. They had never been friends. What kind of friend word turns their friends over to the enemy knowing it meant death or worse for them? No friend would do that.

"Ang?" she could hear but it was like someone had taped her eyes closed. "Angie, please wake up." The worry and fear was clear in the girl's tone. "You're there right?"

"Yes," she responded, "You're okay?"

"Um, yeah," Daisy managed. "Is America here?"

"No," Angela replied bitterly. "America is not here." She wasn't sure whether she resented or pitied the girl. A coward was what America was. A filthy coward.

"Someone's in here with us."

Angela sucked in a breath, "Hello?"

"Hello," the voice replied mockingly. Angela cringed as she recognized that voice. High pitched and taunting just as it had been at Hogwarts. Bellatrix Lestrange.

She did her best to remain calm as she spoke, "Bella, always a pleasure."

"Hmm, same to you, Potter," she replied and Angela could imagine the sadistic grin. "You and the mudblood are in for quite the treat."

A reaction was what she wanted. She wanted a treat? Angela thought to herself. Then she'd give her the show of a lifetime. "Bring it on, bitch." If she was dead anyway, she sure as hell wasn't going down without a few punches of her own.

It felt as though she was back on the cold tile ground, the pain radiating throughout her body. She let out a choked sob as she fell to the ground, surrounded by the now shredded photos. She grabbed at her throat. Air, she thought, I need air. She forced herself to her feet as she stumbled to her door. She struggled with the door knob for a moment but eventually managed to open it.

Angela beelined down the stairs, ignoring her brother's shouts after her. She threw the door open, not bothering to close it behind her as she took off as fast as her legs would take her.