Post by Professor Ashton Laurent on Feb 22, 2009 2:02:31 GMT
Ash had woken up with a foreboding feeling, and dark thoughts running through his mind. Thoughts of one Cristian Martinez. Why would Ash think of him now? It had already been nearly a year since that fateful night when he left nothing but his ring, and a note, and had walked out of Hogwarts, and out of Cristian Martinez’s life forever.
So, why was he now kneeling beside his bed, pulling out a battered box from underneath it? If anyone had looked at the box, they wouldn’t have thought anything of it. It was after all, just a shoebox. Ash however, who knew what it held, could not stop the tremble of his hands as he reached out to lift off the lid. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he reached down with shaky hands and gently tugged off the lid.
There it was. Notes, pictures of the two of them, most of which had been taken with Ash’s muggle camera and therefore stayed as they were, but some were taken with a wizard camera, and either he or Cris had wandered out of the picture. There was also the red, heart-shaped lollipop Cris had given him on Valentine’s Day during their trip to Honeyduke’s together.
There were more little odds and ends, little knick knacks that Cris had given him. Most of the box was notes though. Notes they’d passed back and forth in class. Notes that got them caught by teachers and of course assigned detention. They had spent those detentions playfully ‘arguing’ over whose ‘fault’ it had been. The ‘arguments’ had always ended in giggles and quick, little kisses.
Ash wiped away a tear at the memories that began to flood his mind. The memories were bitter-sweet. Bitter in the reality that that’s exactly what they were. Memories and nothing more. Sweet in the reality that they had had a good time together. And that Cris had once loved him. He sometimes wondered what happened to Cris. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the news anyway. Not in the state he was in.
As Ash went through the contents of the box, reading the notes, picking up each little item; the tears inevitably began to fall. At firs they were few, then as he read more, the fell faster and faster, until finally he just gave up trying to stop them. As he read the last note however, that was the last straw. The note had been dated the day he left. It had held no hints of what was coming; all it showed was two young boys in love. Neither of them expecting the day to end as it would.
When Ash read that note, he finally realized that Cris was gone, and out of his life for good. Of course, Ash had known this all along, but it had never really sunk in. Not till know. Maybe that was because Ash had never allowed himself to think about it. He had thrown himself until life and work, and had repressed the memories of a lost love. But today for some reason, he had woken with a longing, a needing to go through the box.
Now as he knelt beside the box, its contents strewn across the floor around him, and the tears falling from his eyes, Ash wondered if it had all been real. Or merely a cruel joke his mind had played on him, as it was so fond of doing. Had Cris really loved him? If so, why had he done that? Why hadn’t he stopped Ash? Why had he let him walk away?
What had Ash done? How could he not have seen this coming? What had he done to push Cris away? Ash wondered at times if he could go back. Go back in time, and stop this from happening. He knew in his heart however, that it wouldn’t have changed anything. Even if he had talked to Cris then and they had worked things out. It wouldn’t have lasted. Ash would’ve left later. Ash didn’t know how he knew this, but somehow he did.
And that realization was the worst feeling in the world. It felt to Ash as if the pain of losing someone he loved was tearing him apart from the inside out. It wasn’t just emotional pain, it was physical as well. The aching feeling in his stomach, the feeling of his limbs being filled with heavy lead. Even his head ached to think of it.
Ash sat there, box open, contents scattered around him as he finally allowed himself to just cry. Cry for the loss, for the realization that Cris wasn’t coming back, that it was over. As the tears fell, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them, burying his head into the darkness between his knees and his arms. His slim frame shook as the tears turned to sobs. He could hear movement down the hall, and knew that Jen was up, and was likely heading his way to drag him out of his room for another day of work, but Ash didn’t feel like working. Not today. He couldn’t even get up the energy to raise his head when a knock sounded at his door.
So, why was he now kneeling beside his bed, pulling out a battered box from underneath it? If anyone had looked at the box, they wouldn’t have thought anything of it. It was after all, just a shoebox. Ash however, who knew what it held, could not stop the tremble of his hands as he reached out to lift off the lid. Taking a deep breath to steel himself, he reached down with shaky hands and gently tugged off the lid.
There it was. Notes, pictures of the two of them, most of which had been taken with Ash’s muggle camera and therefore stayed as they were, but some were taken with a wizard camera, and either he or Cris had wandered out of the picture. There was also the red, heart-shaped lollipop Cris had given him on Valentine’s Day during their trip to Honeyduke’s together.
There were more little odds and ends, little knick knacks that Cris had given him. Most of the box was notes though. Notes they’d passed back and forth in class. Notes that got them caught by teachers and of course assigned detention. They had spent those detentions playfully ‘arguing’ over whose ‘fault’ it had been. The ‘arguments’ had always ended in giggles and quick, little kisses.
Ash wiped away a tear at the memories that began to flood his mind. The memories were bitter-sweet. Bitter in the reality that that’s exactly what they were. Memories and nothing more. Sweet in the reality that they had had a good time together. And that Cris had once loved him. He sometimes wondered what happened to Cris. But he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the news anyway. Not in the state he was in.
As Ash went through the contents of the box, reading the notes, picking up each little item; the tears inevitably began to fall. At firs they were few, then as he read more, the fell faster and faster, until finally he just gave up trying to stop them. As he read the last note however, that was the last straw. The note had been dated the day he left. It had held no hints of what was coming; all it showed was two young boys in love. Neither of them expecting the day to end as it would.
When Ash read that note, he finally realized that Cris was gone, and out of his life for good. Of course, Ash had known this all along, but it had never really sunk in. Not till know. Maybe that was because Ash had never allowed himself to think about it. He had thrown himself until life and work, and had repressed the memories of a lost love. But today for some reason, he had woken with a longing, a needing to go through the box.
Now as he knelt beside the box, its contents strewn across the floor around him, and the tears falling from his eyes, Ash wondered if it had all been real. Or merely a cruel joke his mind had played on him, as it was so fond of doing. Had Cris really loved him? If so, why had he done that? Why hadn’t he stopped Ash? Why had he let him walk away?
What had Ash done? How could he not have seen this coming? What had he done to push Cris away? Ash wondered at times if he could go back. Go back in time, and stop this from happening. He knew in his heart however, that it wouldn’t have changed anything. Even if he had talked to Cris then and they had worked things out. It wouldn’t have lasted. Ash would’ve left later. Ash didn’t know how he knew this, but somehow he did.
And that realization was the worst feeling in the world. It felt to Ash as if the pain of losing someone he loved was tearing him apart from the inside out. It wasn’t just emotional pain, it was physical as well. The aching feeling in his stomach, the feeling of his limbs being filled with heavy lead. Even his head ached to think of it.
Ash sat there, box open, contents scattered around him as he finally allowed himself to just cry. Cry for the loss, for the realization that Cris wasn’t coming back, that it was over. As the tears fell, he pulled his knees up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them, burying his head into the darkness between his knees and his arms. His slim frame shook as the tears turned to sobs. He could hear movement down the hall, and knew that Jen was up, and was likely heading his way to drag him out of his room for another day of work, but Ash didn’t feel like working. Not today. He couldn’t even get up the energy to raise his head when a knock sounded at his door.
