Detention Detail PV Beyond the Treeline

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Go away, coward. Left me to face the acromantulas, did you? Good riddance; when I get out of this damned place, you'll find out what happens when you anger me so deeply. I hate you. And I don't need you -- oh, you stayed? Right, you didn't this time, so I doubt that you'll have any excuse to compliment yourself like this next time, Rosalyn Cowardly Willows. I'll never forgive you, not even in my next life.

She was trembling and seething with anger as she saw Rosalyn Aria Willows trek back to where they were supposed to have been, where the detention took place. The young Vanes had already forgotten what detention had been like; perhaps she had spent too much time in the Forbidden Forest. But she needed to go here. She just felt it in her gut, and she believed that this wouldn't be the last time. She didn't regret her decision to go to the Forbidden Forest, not one bit, and now Rosie hated her more than anything, that she would abandon her. In the moment, Lauren wasn't even sure whether she was in the wrong or if Rosie was in the wrong, but none of them was in the right; she was sure of that. The blonde was quite good at picking out the flaws of both others and herself, but her optimism was pretty much in the rubbish bin.

Right. She was going to delete Rosalyn damnass Willows from her life. The last wisp of her hair, the last of the bubbly and childlike words that flowed out from her mouth like a stream, the last shadow that still remained in her mind. To be honest, the eleven-year-old who acted more like six. She still didn't know how she had let Rosie become her friend in her first place. Surely she wasn't as low-down as to accept such an idiot as a trust confidant? What the heck had she been fucking thinking?

Her hatred only grew as she worked herself up, trembling even harder than she previously was. Lauren Loratrix Vanes was quite emotional, tended to overthink, and often assumed everything for the worst. The girl had been glaring at Rosie, wanting to fire a random Flipendo or Incendio or any high-damage spell. She wanted to wipe her free will away just as she had done to the portraits.

Stupid, you were a monster to do that! That thought had held her back and tied her in place. She shook herself fiercely, trying to thwart the contaminating voices that seemed to cause her mind to rot. They always were there, as though they had made it their missions to make Lauren Vanes' life more miserable than words could ever express. Similar to the mindsets of her family, who also craved for none other than their youngest daughter being miserable. Even though it had been six years since they had turned against her, the young blonde still couldn't find the reason behind it. Her best guess was that her first instance of magic, singing her bedside table, had caused them to believe that she was a monster. Yet no one in their right mind would turn against their 'golden child' like that; it was most often a thing to be embraced, not feared; celebrated, not hated. But she had grown used to the prospect of her family members' minds filled of none other than dust, dirt and muck.

If someone had told her otherwise (especially if that 'someone' was called Rosalyn Willows), she would have dismissed all that they spoke of. The wounds that her family had inflicted on her mentally had ran too deep, and she felt that no medicine, no bandage, could ever fix that. Nor could it fix the fresh, bleeding wound in her heart that Rosie Willows had inflicted, however much Lauren tried to convince herself that Rosie did not matter to her, that she was to be deleted from her life, that she didn't care one bit about whether she survived the trek back to the safety of the detention group. Then her heart clenched, and she realised that deep down, she did care about the safety of her ex-friend, however much she told herself that she hated it.

Perhaps it was the voices in her mind that were tainted, not Rosalyn Willows. Maybe she was the problem, not her. Maybe if she didn't exist, Rosie would be happier. And nothing could doubt it, not even the small, insane part of her that screamed for her to doubt everyone else, to accuse everyone else, to hate everyone that wasn't herself. Rather, she found herself turning against various parts of her that had different views, and that had included the voices in her mind. The part that could never be silenced despite her efforts. That was what had terrified her; it gave her a feeling of losing control over herself and helplessness. Profound helplessness that caused her to ache to scream for help, but she just managed to keep her mouth shut. No one liked her. No one would want to come to her rescue, especially not Rosie, who she believed was physically the closest one to her in the detention group. That said, if she was in Rosie's place, she would leave her to die alone, by herself, without a shed of guilt. She had caused all this. She had been wrong. Lauren herself had never asked for this.

Her lack of forgiveness was perhaps among the things that had made her such a difficult person. But she hadn't been the one who wanted to stop herself from forgiving. She tried to be compassionate. She tried to forgive, but in the process, the other parts of her would think otherwise and manipulate her into hatred and rage. Things were like that, and that was without mentioning the voices in her mind, all again. The very voices that had told her that she was undeserving, that she was worthless, that she was a monster, that she was the worst person in the world all over again. It seemed hard to believe that those were what had plagued her mind for the past moments, and the prospect of it made her fists clench and her eyes widen in disbelief. It felt strange to have such full control of the voices now, as Rosie left and they were briefly silenced. All the Slytherin could hope for was that they stayed that way for the rest of her life, but it felt more likely that her family accepted her once more than they disappeared. Consider themselves a replacement for Aunt Loratrix because she couldn't be with her as she joined Hogwarts? They were things that Lauren was begging to disappear. She was an independent woman, anyways, and didn't need some voices to tell her who she needed to be or what she needed to do or where everything was. Despite not being sorted into Ravenclaw, 'stupid' was not a way to describe Lauren Loratrix Vanes.

In that very moment, something sharp prodded her leg, and she felt as if talons were ripping through her and tearing her inside out. She felt pain beyond measure, worse than anything she'd ever felt before. She tried to howl, but no sound came out, except for a shrill scream in the end that would normally have caused Rosie to come running over like a badger chasing after its young. But given the argument that they had previously been in, Lauren doubted that this would be the case. She didn't know for sure, however.

But as she examined herself, she saw not a scratch, not a wound in her. There was a chill along her spine, and it wasn't from the cold.

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