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There’s so much around me, but then there’s not, but then there is again. And it’s closing in, moving farther away, closinginclosinginclosingin. I race in the other direction, but it’s there too. And what is it? It’s Everything. The doll I used to carry around when I was just a little girl, the sweet-smelling roses from a still-secret admirer, my very own heartbeat, growing louder and louder. Everything keeps coming and it can’t get any closer and I’m trying to push it away, but it’s so heavy and so light and so strong and so weak. Because it’s Everything, you know. That doll, those roses, and the heartbeat, growing louder and louder.

Everything is grabbing at my ankles, my wrists, pulling me into itself, to be as easily consumed as the buttered toast I ate this very morning. And then I can’t say that I’m Pansy Parkinson, the sole nothing left in the world, but Pansy Parkinson, a tiny, insignificant piece of Everything. It doesn’t suit me well, that title. But maybe, once I’m amidst the broken smiles and forgotten dreams, once I’m that fragment of Everything, I’ll sink down and land among the clouds and the title will form around me. Encasing me into the cloud, where it’s sometimes fluffy and sometimes stormy and where no one will remember that I used to be only nothing left in the world.

And now, now Everything has let go and I’m drifting away, maybe going up, but maybe going down, or sideways, or diagonal. Goodbye Everything. I’m saying it just like he said goodbye to me. Goodbye Pansy. Where was the emotion? There was none, no emotion. Where was it? I wanted to ask him, I really did. Where was it, where was the emotion? But I didn’t and he left me with only two words to remember. Goodbye Pansy.

But it was all a game. To Everything, I’m just the entertainment, the nothing with nothing left to love and nothing to hold onto in the end. Taunting, that’s all it’s doing. I’m not drifting away anymore, nor was I ever. I wasn’t going up and I wasn’t going down and I wasn’t going sideways or diagonal. It was just an illusion, a trick in my mind, a silly little game that Everything plays with such sickening glee. I’m Everything and you’re nothing and where is he? Where is he, Pansy? Where is he?

I start to scream nonsense at it, but the louder I scream, the softer my words come out. I’m yelling at the top of my lungs and screaming and screaming louder and then the world quiet! I’m still screaming, but I can’t hear myself, no matter how much louder I make my voice. Am I deaf? Will I never again hear the clamor of a crowd or the blades of grass rustling together or my heartbeat growing louder and louder ever again? But when I whisper, whisper to Everything to stop the torture, it comes out loud, so loud. I try to bring my hands up to cover my ears, but some invisible force holds them to my sides. And my ears will surely explode. I can’t hear my heartbeat and I can’t hear those blades of grass rustling together, but I hear this deafening whisper and I’m surely going to die! Goodbye Pansy.

I used to call him my everything. Back when Everything was nothing to me. It wasn’t this monster that grabs at my limbs and tries to make me leave the state I’ve been trapped in for so long, this nothing state. It was simply a word, a group of letters that strung themselves together on a delicate piece of thread and left my mouth without so much of a thought as what everything actually was. He wasn’t everything, not a dirty old man in the streets begging for a spare galleon, not a bird soaring over the whole world without a care in the world. Where is he, Pansy? And I want to be that bird, not caring about anything and feeling my wings cut through a cloud. Swish.

And when my wings cut through that cloud, perhaps the very one I had been destined to be encased in, Everything disappears. The intensity of my quiet whispers is gone and so is my doll and my heartbeat that used to grow louder and louder. Have I died? Is it even possible to die when you’re nothing?

Where is he, Pansy? Where am I? It all seems so still, so frozen. There is nothing and there is something, but there is no Everything and no Everything grabbing at my ankles and taunting me and playing such a cruel game. But somehow, this nothing, this something, is worse than Everything could ever be. I’m alone, so alone. I’m racing around in circles, but I’m not moving and nothing is changing. I’m banging on the walls, but there aren’t any walls to bang on. I’m stomping my feet on the ground, but they just hang there; the ground has disappeared.

This is the world, the world when it is stripped away of Everything that makes it the world that we know. No one cries, but no one laughs. No one dies, but no one lives. No one hates, but no one loves. There isn’t any pain or suffering, but there isn’t any happiness or joy. The balance that society thrived on, the equilibrium created between happy and sad, has vanished, creating nothing. And right now, I don’t want to be nothing anymore; I want to be happy, I want to be sad, I want to be Everything, or at least a meaningless fragment of Everything.  

My eyes close, but it doesn’t make any sort of difference, no. I saw nothing moments before and it terrified me. And now, I can’t see anything, which is different than truly seeing nothing, but this unknown quality terrifies me just the same. But when I open them, it’s as if the gods above, should there be any gods in the nothingness, have answered my prayers. I’m not sure what it is, but it’s there and in the distance and it creates an atmosphere in what used to be a horrifying amount of nothing.

Thoughts of curiosity and cats rattle through my mind, but I’m beyond thinking. I can’t tell if my feet are moving or if it is simply coming towards me, but suddenly, here we are, me and it. It is at my feet and I can’t see it, but I can feel it.  I want to look down, but I don’t want to, but I want to, but I don’t want to, and then I do, I look. Him.

Goodbye Pansy. I wait for the words to come out of his mouth, just like they did so many years ago, but they don’t. He doesn’t so much as blink or swallow or reach out to lightly brush my shoulder in sympathy, though such a gesture would be quite out of character for the man he had become. My hand darts out and before I realize what I’m doing, it touches that handsome face I loved so dearly.

A reflection. That’s all it was, a reflection in the water. The image, that perfect image, distorts and disappears altogether. Goodbye Pansy. The water licks at my bare feet and I’m getting pulled in. I feel like I should be afraid of drowning, but that’s all I want, to become a reflection in the water. I won’t be nothing, but I won’t be Everything. And maybe then, I’ll finally be with him. Just two reflections, distorted in the water.

The water crawls up, swallowing my neck and hungrily reaching for my mouth, my head, my hair. I watch as the world starts to build around me. Buildings spring up out of nowhere, people hurry down crowded sidewalks. Somewhere, someone is crying and somewhere else, new life is brought into the world. A girl looks up at the sky and wishes on a star for that perfect boy; a boy skips a stone into a stream and wonders where life will take him. Someday, though they do not know it now, they will realize that they love each other. And me, I’ll just be a reflection in the water.

 Noise. It’s starting to come back now, the sounds, and I’m now certain that I’m alive, though my time is coming to a close as the water takes over my mouth. Breathing doesn’t seem important anymore; all I care to do is listen to the world around me. Cars rushing, people talking, dogs barking, the obvious noises. And the ones that you have to listen more carefully for: the cough of a newborn dragonfly, the tear sliding down someone’s face, the final blink that someone makes as they fade into the darkness and leave the world forever.

But then, I’m fully under the water and I can’t hear anything. I like it this way, though. Just the muffled silence and these thoughts that are slowly taking over inside of my mind. And I know that I could push myself above the water, back into the world of noise, but that’s not what I want. I want to be a reflection in the water, not quite dead, but not quite alive. Just me and him. And he won’t be able to say goodbye anymore, no, not at all. Because he’ll be a reflection too and us reflections have to stick together.

There’s a world going on out there. And then there’s him. My world. My Everything.

Goodbye world.

A/N: Just to let everyone know, this is all happening in Pansy's mind. She doesn't die in the end and the water she sinks into is just a surreal image in her mind. The whole idea is that when you're under water, the world kind of seems to stop and everything gets quiet. That's what she's experiencing in her mind, since all she cares about in the world is Draco and she feels disconnected to the real world.

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