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Trapped In My Mind
Chapter 1: My Shadow
I cannot hear, walk, or see, but I can feel. It is degrading to have to rely on someone else to do every little thing for you. I would die if Potter saw me like this! With someone undressing me, carrying me to the bath, then helping me bathe. Whoever it is, I need his help to even eat, get dressed, brush my teeth, and comb my hair.
I like to think that whoever is doing this is at least paid for it, but I know better. I know the person is male, I know he is strong, yet gentle and warm.
I know it is NOT Snape, for he is cold and never gentle. I know it is not any female at the school, for this person has masculine features. Though that does not leave out Pansy, but she is not gentle either.
I know that whoever it is has infinite patience with me, for I scream, rant and rave most of the time, yet he is still gentle. I know that it is the same person each time I wake, for I have grown to know his touch like my own.
He talks to me... I know I cannot hear or see, so he traces words on my skin, and I talk back to him, silently for me, well at least in my mind I am very loud, but most of the time I just trace back on his skin.
If I lost my ability to feel, I fear I would go mad! If I lost him I would probably stop feeling. I sometimes wonder why he puts up with me, but I never ask him. I do nothing but insult and belittle him, but most of the time I just rant on about how this is all Potter's fault. He stays by my side no matter how bad my mood, he must not like Potter either, for he even tells me stories of how Potter has gotten into trouble during the day while I am stuck in this bed or chair.
When classes are going on, I am at my loneliest; I would trace patterns in the chair or bed, count my breaths, anything to pass the time. I would stare at the grate whiteness that is now my vision. Really, you would think it is black but I can still see light, it is only black when there is no light. I am eternally grateful for that, for if my life was filled with nothing but blackness, I would have ended it myself.
I call him my shadow, or shad for short. I think he likes the nickname. He would not tell me his name; he said he did not want me to be embarrassed about who it was when I was 'better'. Oh yes, did I not tell you? He seems to think I will get better; it is the only reason why I am still alive. If he has faith that I will get better, then who am I to say I won’t? So he is my shadow, a boy whose name I do not know, someone whom I can't thank when this is over, someone who does not expect thanks in return for his deeds.
Chapter 2: My Ghosts
I finally got the nerve to ask Shad if my parents lived through the attack. There was a long pause before he traced the words out on my arm. 'I am sorry, D, but they are dead.' I just nodded; I knew my father was a Death Eater and my mother wholeheartedly supported him, but damn, he was MY father! He loved me, he showed me things, and he helped me with my problems. Shad must have seen the pain in my face, because he hugged me and would not let go till the tears stopped. I would like to think it was a quiet cry but I know better, me being deaf does not mean I can't feel my throat all sore and scratchy.
I dreamt that night. Of the night of the accident. The night my world imploded in on me. Potter was there at Malfoy Manor. Voldemort was also there, my father was one of the men in a circle around Voldemort.
Potter and Voldemort were exchanging words but I could not hear, I was just entering the large room of the Manor.
That is when things went black. I know something fell on me but I don't know what. Later, when I had woken up from the fall, it was the first time I felt my shadow. He was near me, working on my arm, trying to work the cramps out so I could use it. I could not hear or see, nor could I move my legs. I panicked, but the strong arms of my shadow wrapped around me, holding me, calming me by stroking my hair. I could feel the vibrations of his throat, I knew he was trying to soothe me vocally but I could not hear.
I cried myself to sleep. The next morning I only assumed it was morning. It was bright, but I never could see anything, only this bright light that would not go away even when I closed my eyes. He was there, or at least he was there shortly after I woke up. I first did not know it was he; all I knew was that someone was tapping on my arm.
I shoved his hand away when he just started tracing on my arm. It took a while for me to realize that he was writing on my arm. 'Okay, Draco, it is okay, they say you will get better but only if you help.' there was a pause 'Do you want to get better?' I realized he was waiting for me to reply, so I simply nodded. 'First, we need to get you showered, you stink.' I think, but I could not be sure, that I looked puzzled; I could not see, how could I take a shower?! I felt him wrap an arm around my waist with my right arm up against his chest. I tried to shove him away yelling and protesting the whole time, telling him to sod off and leave me alone, but it was all for nothing, for I felt myself being lifted off the bed.
He carried me a short way to a chair and started tracing on my arm again. 'This would be easier if you helped, Draco.' Help? I voiced as much but I could not hear my own voce; it is odd saying something and not hearing your own voce. 'Undress' came the response. Undress! I called him a bloody pervert and told him to sod off, I would do no such thing!
He, of course, ignored me, and later I found myself sitting nude on a chair under a stream of water, me pouting with my arms crossed over my chest, determined to make his job hell. This did not daunt me as he gently (I was to find out later he would always be gentle with me, no matter my mood) scrubbed at my skin with a sponge and washed my hair... I am rather reluctant to admit it, but yes, my shadow did wash ALL of me.
--End flash back--
I pulled my eyes open from the dream, I could not exactly call it a nightmare. Of course, I relived the horrible night when I lost all: my parents, my sight, my hearing, my ability to walk. But I gained a gentle companion and friend, one that was impossible to anger, no matter how much I screamed and hollered, one that would always be there, one that is better then Potter could have ever been. One that is better then Potter's Weasel! Okay, now I am gloating, but really, that is all I have left in this life...
Edit by: Moonchild
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