Chapter 15

I’ve always been able to see things. Since I was real little.

There weren’t many who knew, and I usually took potions that blocked the images and scenes that flashed through my mind like painful stabs and slashes across the head.

But two months in this prison, and every single drop of my protective potion had drained from my blood stream, which opened my eyes.

To anyone else, I was sitting in my cell alone.

But to me, it was packed with all sorts of creatures, some of them so vile looking that they would terrify me if I hadn’t been used to the sight, and some so defenseless that I could take one as a pet. And some of them human.

You know, if they weren’t all dead.

I suppose, when I say always, I’m exaggerating. It’s been happening since I was eight years old, when I killed Amycus Carrow. Apparently, I’d already been screwed up –hence the reason why I was able to kill the bastard without any other thoughts or a wand- and luring death with my own hand kicked in a whatever in my twisted mind and I was suddenly able to see all sorts of dead things, and deaths that either just happened or were about to happen.

So, in short, I can predict death. It’s lovely, really.

Okay. So, when you die, or are killed, you have the choice on whether or not to come back as a ghost, or move on to where ever. Most people pick the choice of moving on (I am talking strictly magical blood for the moment) and so people can’t see their influence on the world.

Yeah, well, I can. Everyone, whether or not you stay as a ghostly ghost, or move on, leaves a chunk of their spirit on the planet among the Living. It all depends on the staying behind or moving on. Because if you stay behind, there is enough of your spirit that stays that people can see the ghosts. But if you move on, the tiny portion of your spirit that stays is so faint that people shouldn’t be able to see it. And, back at square one, I’m screwed up in such a way that I can see those people who I shouldn’t. People and animals.

Like I said, it’s lovely, really.

Not a lot of people knew this, obviously, and no one in the ministry now knew.

So, when they’d left me in the highest security cell, where a bunch of people have died, it was really a blessing in disguise.

Depending on how you look at it.

About half of the Dementors sided with the Dark side, the first time in known history that they would split up. There seemed to be something blocking those reluctant to join. Something that kept them away.

Lucy’s words rang through my mind again.

My cell door creaked open as a dementor slid in my evening meal, and I decided abruptly that it was time to test out my carefully devised theory.

(read: spontaneous decision that I should test out the mental ramblings that occur in my head)

Right before the cell closed again, I called out. “Wait!” I exclaimed. I could tell that the creature was surprised. Not many choose to be in their company by choice.

And that surprise is what gave me my chance.

Slinging myself through the small opening in my cell door, I slammed into the dementor and, reaching out with my one good arm, yanked it’s hood down.

And what I saw was quite possibly the most terrifying thing I’d ever seen in all my years of seeing the dead.

So, how are you lovely little readers? Did you enjoy what may be (but I'm not sure) the shortest chapter I've ever written on this site?
...didn't think so. BUT, you know, it's kind of important. So bare (is this the right 'bare'? I'll write the other one just in case) bear with me.
What do you think Rose saw? How will this affect everything else? Are you surprised she even dared to get that close to a Dementor?

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