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OOC: This was written for my own solo role play purposes. Therapeutic, you could call it. You are welcome to read and I hope you get a glimpse into another character's soul. Please be respectful.
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IC:
The clouds part allowing the sun to briefly peak through, reflecting off the water. Although she doesn't see it, or realize the beauty in front of her. Sitting alone at her favorite beach. Surfboard laying unused at her side. The only thing she feels is the sand her toes are buried in and the bite of the cold air passing across the water. Her strength is so weak, and her desire so non existent that she doesn't even bother with the chipped manicure or the state of her hair. Not even having touched a beauty potion in two days, which is saying something.
His words made sense. Too much sense. She keeps playing them over and over. Ruminating isn't good for the soul, but she can't seem to stop. She knows deep down in every fiber of her being that this was supposed to happen. Almost like destiny stepping in and showing her she can't cheat it. This is who she is.
Unwanted.
Undesired.
Not worth another's time or effort.
To paraphrase one of her lovers...
“There is nothing special enough about you to love, Sierra.”
And she believes it. Now more than ever.
Her heart aches, but she finds a little solace in it all. Realizing now that everything she touches will die. Bitter at all those stories her father read while she was young, sitting on his knee. All the Cinderella's, Snow White's, Sleeping Beauty's... all laughing at her for not “finishing” the reading of their stories. There was no guarantee once the written letters stopped that the “happily ever after” became reality. Clearly, it was a fabricated lie out of some silly person's imagination.
Her thoughts return to the beauty of the ocean. Where she feels most at home. Not certain if this is coincidence or fate that she comes here when her heart can't seem to continue beating. The Nereid in her feels real at this moment. Those lovely women of the sea, always helpful and searching the waters for sailors in perilous storms needing to be rescued. Her wand with the Nereid core... now where did she put that? Looking to her side and seeing her surfboard, the one Seril had inspired her to purchase. Purple, with little flowers. What a silly, stupid girl she is as she realizes the folly... rescuing men. Maybe males just needed to fight the battles of the ocean alone? Not wanting the assistance of a woman. Or at least not one like Sierra. How many of those men she loved needed “rescuing” and she tried, instead ruining and tainting everything along the way. Once again, the thoughts overwhelm her and she allows herself to be taken over. Laying down in the sand and it all goes black...
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She heard someone say once that “love songs are just a cruel hoax that feed people's fantasies.” Vehemently disagreeing at the time, the words surface in her mind now. She's left to think maybe she'd been wrong all this time. Some people consider her shallow, vapid. She's starting to think there is truth to their cruelty. Why couldn't she have learned earlier on, before offering her heart to a string of lovers who always faded away?
Abandoned.
Her worst fear. Her Boggart.
Is it so frightening to her now? Staring out over the water, her body on the verge of freezing. Shaking. Damp from the spray of the waves. Miserable. But worse than any physical pain, she's alone. And she feels the full brunt of it.
Forcing herself to stand, although her muscles threaten to give out after hardly moving for over twenty four hours. When had she last eaten? At least as long. Her stomach was so hollow, but the ache of her soul easily outweighs the ache of her physical body.
It gets easier... she thinks. The first time tore her apart, barely able to convince herself she hadn't imagined the rush of a first love. The ring she kept close was proof. A proof she clung to. But now what? A string of lovers, all gone... no one wanted to take her back now. How had so many good intentions created so much heartache?
Numb. That's what she was now. The waves of excruciating pain had been cried away over the past few days. Leaving something far worse in it's place.
Apathy.
It is what it is, and cannot be undone. Resignation. At best, she was cursed. And she will embrace this, knowing some stories end... tragically. Does hers have to end like this?
“Yes.”
She answers herself, not a good sign. The day wears on, the sun shining and then fading. The moon showing her how much beauty the world offers at night. But she isn't even aware. Another twenty four hours pass. She needs to eat. Even weaker at this point but she does force herself to leave the isolation.
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“I'd like you to have this. Of course! No... don't worry. It's last seasons, I want a new one anyway.” Sierra offers several younger Hufflepuff girls free choice between her best purses, costume jewelry, basically anything that isn't a prized possession.
“I don't need these. And I would love them to go to good homes.”
The girls don't question it, happy to get these gifts, most of the items worth hundreds of pounds. Sierra smiles... something that is few and far between the past few days. But she feels a soft spark inside, knowing her things will be cared for, and well. After all, she thinks to herself, who needs “stuff”?
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The crushing ache of it all bears down again. And she escapes to her beach. The sand and water kiss her skin, maybe at least something loves her. As soon as the thought crosses her mind, the reminders of all the words stream back into her soul... and she's soon left desolated, alone, pathetic.
Lied to, coddled, accepted briefly. How often have the words “I love you” been spoken, intimately? She embraced as sincere, only to be shoved aside as soon as she allows her soul to touch theirs. They couldn't all have lied... 6, 7, 8... 12... So the fault can't be with all of them. After all, she is the common link. She has only one place to go to find where the blame lies. Looking at herself in the mirror. She sees it all in her reflection.
Unwanted. Undesired. Unloved. Not worth the time. Something inside of her essence, so foul, so wrong, so unworthy of the air she uses. Each breath somehow...
Cursed.
Yeah. She accepts it now.
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