Blood is falling | Slytherin boys

Eating Smoke

Weed, I need weed.

I shoot out of bed after a deep sleep, my mouth dry, yearning for a taste of smoke, whithered with the senseless taste of weed. I steady myself, my head pounding and my eyes going dizzy as I stand up, I look around my dorm to see no sight of anyone. I guess mattheo left.

As the first light of dawn crept through the ancient stone windows of my Hogwarts dorm, I find myself perched on the ledge, the chill of the early morning air biting against my skin. My legs dangled precariously out the window, over the high stories, a reckless reminder of the fragility of life amid the looming shadows of danger. The remnants of last night's revelry clung to me like a shroud, the laughter now replaced by an unsettling silence that echoed the fears lurking in the corners of my mind. With trembling hands, I lit a series of weed cigarettes, the smoke curling upwards like whispered secrets, each puff a desperate attempt to numb the gnawing anxiety that Voldemort's presence instilled within me. As I inhale deeply, the familiar warmth spread through my veins, dulling the sharp edges of reality, if only for a moment. I watch the sun rise, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, a stark contrast to the darkness that threatened to engulf us all. Each exhale released not just the smoke, but fragments of my worries, my hopes, and the haunting knowledge that the battle was far from over. In that fragile moment, suspended between night and day, I felt both invincible and utterly vulnerable, caught in the bittersweet dance of youth and impending doom, longing for solace in a world that seemed determined to tear us apart.

"I could die any second" I laugh to myself psychoticly

After I recklessly hop down from the window sill, I blow out my last ciagrettec, stumbling around my room, knocking over a glass of water.

~a few hours later~

The weekend at Hogwarts is supposed to be a time for relaxation and friendship, but for me, it had devolved into a haze of smoke and numbing substances. As a Slytherin, I was accustomed to the darker corners of the castle, but now those shadows felt more like a refuge than a home. 

I stumble through the dimly lit corridors, my heavy red eyes barely able to focus. The world around me blurred, a swirl of green and silver, as I clutch an empty bottle in one hand and a crumpled cigarette in the other.

My friends were gathered in our common room, their laughter echoing off the stone walls. They were unaware of how far I had fallen, how the darkness inside me had grown like a weed, choking out any light. I lean against the wall, trying to steady myself, but the room spun, and I felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over me. I barely made it to the bathroom before I doubled over, retching into the toilet, my body rebelling against the poison I had poured into it.

When I emerge, I saw their faces—concern etched in their features. Mattheo was the first to approach, his brow furrowed. 

"Hey, are you alright?" he asks, his voice laced with worry. 

I tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Just a bit of a rough night," I slur, my words thick and heavy.

Draco crosses his arms, skepticism in his gaze. "A rough night? You look like you've been hit by a Bludger." The others nodded, their expressions shifting from playful banter to genuine concern. I can see it in their eyes; they were starting to realize that this was more than just a phase.

As the hours drag on, I find myself sinking deeper into my own despair, slowly dozing off into theos lap, on the couch in the common room. I can hear snippets of their conversation, the way they whisper about me when they thought I wasn't listening. 

"We need to do something," Theo said, his voice low. "This isn't normal."

I felt a pang of guilt. They care, but I'm too far gone to appreciate it. I grab another drink, hoping to drown out the noise in my head. Tom steps forward, his tone firm. 

"You need to stop. This isn't just a bit of fun anymore. You're killing yourself." His words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, clarity broke through the fog.

"Leave me alone," I mutter, but even I could hear the weakness in my voice. Enzo, usually the jokester, looked serious. "We're your friends. We won't let you do this to yourself." The warmth of their concern wrapped around me, but it felt suffocating. I wanted to push them away, to retreat into my darkness, but a part of me craved their support.

I can feel their eyes boring into me, a mix of worry and frustration. Draco steps closer, his voice low but firm. "This isn't you. You're better than this. We all know you are." 

I wanted to scream, to tell them that they didn't understand—that they couldn't possibly know the weight I carried. Instead, I just stare at the floor, the stone cold beneath my feet reflecting the chill in my heart.

The room felt smaller, the air thick with tension. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, drowning out their voices as they exchange worried glances. Mattheo reached out, placing a hand on my shoulder, grounding me momentarily. "We're not going anywhere. You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not," he said, trying to inject a bit of levity into the situation, but his eyes betrayed his fear.

Suddenly, a wave of emotion crashed over me, and I felt hot tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I wipe my face roughly with the back of my hand, angry at myself for showing weakness. "You don't get it," I choke out, my voice cracking. "I can't just turn this off. It's all too much." I sank to the floor, the weight of my despair pulling me down, and the sobs I had been holding back erupted in a torrent.

Theo knelt beside me, his expression softening. "Then let us help you carry it. You don't have to do this alone." I look up at them—my friends, my family in this twisted world—and for the first time, I saw their resolve. They were willing to fight for me, even when I felt unworthy of their care.

But the darkness whispers in my mind, telling me I am beyond saving. As I sat there, surrounded by their concern, I felt torn between wanting to embrace their support and the urge to push them away, to sink deeper into the abyss where I feel I belong. The battle raged within me, and I don't know which side will win.

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the room, I realize how deeply I have fallen. I'm trapped in a cycle of self-destruction, and my friends are beginning to see the truth. They're angry, but more than that, they're scared. Scared of losing me to the very darkness I have embraced.

"Please," Mattheo's voice broke through my thoughts, "let us help you." I look into his eyes, and for the first time, I felt those butterflies, the small little flutters in my stomach, from a boy. A boy who really does care about me.