Does The Hurt Last? pv sage reopened

𝒯wo long days later, Brookline lied in her bed, her lusterless, cold eyes dead on the celling, her breathing mucked up and shallow.

She needed to get out.

Anywhere.

Out.

Of.

This.

Freaking.

House.


Perhaps she could sneak out, and find a place at the Leaky Cauldron before school started right up again. Perhaps she could get Sage to come with her.

No.

No need to drag Sage into, yet, annother mess. She didn't need that stress. That peer pressure. All that backpacks weight on her shoulders. No. Sage didn't need that.

Brookline rolled out of bed, quilts and duvets still wrapped around her shoulders, and she brushed them off, throwing the heavy comforters in a huge heap on her floor. She didn't care. Her dad didn't.

So, why the heck should she?

Brookline dragged herself downstairs, and met her mother. Mrs. Amy Quinn, was a whole mess herself, her tangled hair in a messy mass over her skull, her forehead brushing the cool counter.

The young Quinn felt her heart twist in enormous pain and throwing pity for her heartbroken mother.

"M-mum?" Her voice completely broke, as her mum's face bucked and cracked, her blue eyes filled with huge clear tears.

Amy Quinn eyed her daughter, and her own eyes filled with tears, and soon both, mother and daughter would be sobbing.

They wouldn't know what to do. But Amy knew something and Brookline didn't.

Amy was the first to weep and sob.

Even thought Brookline knew completely what her mum was crying about, she asked what was wrong.

"Wha-what happened? Did he--" Brookline broke down, salty tears slipping down her gaunt cheeks.

Amy shook her head fast. Held up a creased piece of parchment, and then her palms would shudder and sway as the parchment flew from her slender fingers.

Brookline stared at her mother, incredulous, her lips ringed with frustration. She raced over to the fallen papyrus, reaching it with desperate fingers, and once she finally got it, she clutched it with her chest. Her eyebrows flew up when she realized what it was.

Sage's letter.

Her stash of the Hufflepuff's letters hidden in the cupboard.

Her mother, Amy Quinn read every word.

Every depressing word of Sage.

A sob broke Brookline's throat.

Why?! She thought, her fingers gripping on the letter, her knuckles white, Universe, why nust you throw stuff in my face...?

Sadness slowly disappeared. And out came pure rage.

The Welsh girl's gaze burned over to her mother. "M-Mum... You have... no idea how angry this makes me."

The tears froze on her cheeks, as she took a step over to her weeping mother.

"Brooke, I-I. Why didn't y-you tell me?"

"Oh, no, Mother. You don't get to that. I didn't tell you because this is exactly what would have happened. And you wouldn't understand! I wanted a friend to help because you were shut up in your room since he left. Since he left. And only Lord knows why you stayed in that damn room when you could have helped me! You could have helped all of us. So, yes, Mum, I didn't you because that. That was the biggest reason, but also, I-I knew if I did, you would tell me something I didn't want to hear." Brookline's tears flowed down, and every so often a sob would appear from her throat.

Trying again, Amy's tears never stopped. "Wha- Brookline, I don't- I don't appreciate your tone, young lad--"

Brookline's fury rose. "No! No, no, no! You listen, I talk for once. You don't have to talk all the time. Sometimes, especially when your children become teenagers, and adults, you have to listen, too. I don't care if this isn't tradition, or whatever meek excuse you would ever dare of creating, for one, you don't even deliver with tradition! Like, we would be going to galas, and our family wouldn't be... like, this!

"Broken. Broken!

"Do you hear? We are broken!"

Brookline wept as her mother's crumpled face twisted into a crude frown, tears still slipping down the mother's face.

"I know, Brookline, but your fath--"

Would she just shut her ding dang trap for once!?

"Oh yes, I do quite know that my "father" went ahead and left, leaving a huge hole in our hearts, but that doesn't give you the damn right to sift through my things, or ignore your freaking children, or sob your pitiful eyes out. At least I helped. At least I talked with my siblings, at least I wasn't shut out!"

Her ocean of eyes was filled with salty waves and slipping down her cheeks, as she paused, her body shaking in exhaustion.

However, before Brookline could be told off for cursing, a sob broke, and she grabbed the rest of her letters stashed in the drawer. "Don't you ever dare read my letters again." A string of curses uttered from the girl would leave Amy's face pale as she stormed up to her room.

Brookline would collapse on her bed, and read her friend's letter for the first time, and she started bawl. Darkness washed over her vision, and still clutching the letter, she let her head fall to her pillow.

It was late evening when Brookline awoke, her eyes red and cheeks pink, when she grabbed a piece of parchment and a quill. She cried so hard as she wrote. It would be time for school soon.

Thank God.

Sage,

Something horrible happened today. I can't explain as well as I could if I was in person, but I screamed at my mum today. She found the letters you sent me, and I kinda got really mad, because she was crying. And she didn't understand, like I knew she wouldn't. I would write more but this is making me cry so much.

But what happens when it's not a dream nor nightmare? What happens when it happened for real? What happens if he comes back and leaves me again?

I know, grief is just so hard. And I didn't even physically loose someone. I can't even try to imagine, how crude, how heart-breaking, it is to loose someone, like you. This just makes me cry again.

You were a child! You couldn't even barely register what would have happened. And when you could, your step-mum stepped into the picture and helped you with that pain. I also hope that she helped your father, even just a tad bit. I know I hate our fathers and I hate what they did to each of us, but they must had a reason as why they did what they did. However heart-breaking their decisions were, we, I suppose we have to give them a little grace. Your father practically lost everything, but he didn't loose you. He could have done more things to make sure that you weren't living away from, but at least he still has you. Remember that.

It's okay. I feel better when I, at least try, to offer advice. It makes me feel better that someone is going through a similar situation as me, even though it hurts. It hurts so much I can't breathe. I'll see you at school. Thank the Lord, it is time for school. Any normal child would hate the idea of school, but I'm glad. Little bit of sunlight in my dark, suffocating house.

Thanks so much. You're a life-saver, Sage.

Brookline didn't even bothering signing her name. It already felt too big of a dang burden on her shoulders. Her fingers were starting to shake, and even as her tears had stopped for a little bit as she wrote, tears burned at her eyes.

The suffocating girl dove into her pillow, and waterfalls of tears soaked into the fabric.

It was all too hard.

No, it was suffocating.

Suffocating, she rather liked that word, Brookline decided.