Field of Innocence ((Damara))

[India Nightingale]

'Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world.
Oh I... I want to go back to believing in everything.'
-- Field of Innocence, Evanescence

No one was here. No one... Not a single soul; no living, breathing person whose heartbeat played with hers. No. Hers beat alone. She sat there and breathed in her solitude.

Finally. Solitude.

India's eyes re-opened and she stared straight ahead, green-blue flashing glassily in the dim firelight. And yet. And yet, she didn't want solitude anymore. It wasn't what she searched for, yearned for... it was something entirely different to solitude. India had spent so many years demanding abandonment, but now she knew the pain of loneliness and she no longer wanted it. She wanted it gone, now. Gone forever, banished into the past where India would not look to anymore.

She shifted uncomfortably. Her frail arms, thin as ever, clutched each other as if she would break apart in her very own fingers. Like a broken doll she carried herself. And right she was to. If it were not for her own strength, India may not be existing today, at this very moment, lying stark on the Student Lounge carpet on the evening of a Friday night.

What had brought her here had been its loneliness. She wanted solitude - just for a moment, but she'd wanted it nonetheless. Her dorm was infested with conniving creatures, as was the Common Room but with those of different sizes, ages, years. India wanted nothing to do with them. She didn't want to see any of them anymore. She was sick of them; sick of their whispering, their staring, their ignorance. Oh, she wanted to hate them so much.

And there had been the Student Lounge: empty, frozen. People had abandoned it, the fire of the hearth burning its very last embers. So India had entered, shut the door; lay on the floor and stared into the ceiling, searching for her answers there. She had been lying here, now, for over an hour. Not once had she been disturbed. She doubted she would be. Who would come here at such a late hour? Students were frolicking in their dormitories, common rooms, in secret rooms and password-protected bathrooms. Everyone was everywhere, with each other, except for India. She was, as usual, alone in the world.

She could've turned to Skye. Or Drake. Even Cyrus. India wasn't exactly alone - not really. But in her heart, she was. Her heart bled to be alone. Loneliness hurt. A lot. A whole damn lot. India's palm clutched over her chest as she felt her breathing quicken, her pulse jumping in her neck, wrist, breast. Oh. She was so alone in this world. And if India was any weaker, she would be weeping.

How much had changed since the five-year-old that was India Nightingale? That innocent, pure child, with no problems, no fears or haunting history. Those days were long gone - completely erased from her memories. It was as though that person had never existed. This India was all she had ever known and it was all she would ever be... unless someone could change her. And no one wanted to... No one even wanted to try. India didn't blame them. A ghostly smile tainted her lips as she closed her eyes again and tried to breathe easy. No one wanted her. Not Skye. Not Drake. No one.

And then the door creaked ajar.

India's eyes flew wide open. An intruder. Her system's sounded the alarm and she was tensed, listening carefully to whom it was who had just broken her sphere. India was craftily hidden in the corner of the room, sprawled between chairs and sofas and tables so she was completely obscured from view. She knew she could not be seen - but she could not escape unseen either. Grating her teeth together silently, India watched as a pair of shoes came into view. They belonged to a pupil - certainly not Filch or a professor. India's breath eased and she sat up, her head of blonde messed and untidy as curled locks fell over her face and shoulders. Her eyes watched as Damara Hemingway, her dorm- and classmate, entered the Student Lounge and paused. Their gazes met and the other girl froze. India maintained eye contact for a very awkward moment, before she completely disregarded Damara by lying down again without a word.

India was alone.

[Damara Hemingway S6]

Dig deeper Damara. Think. The silky smooth voice rang in her ear. For days Damara had been haunted by Nico’s voice, his face. What had she ever done to him to lead to this? In the back of Damara’s mind, she wondered if he was dead. Maybe that could explain the delusions. They didn’t make any sense. Damara had been thinking a lot about that night in the courtyard, her near insanity. Nico drove her to that state. His mere memory drove her insane. He had to be dead right? He couldn’t cause this much pain while he was still alive. But it didn’t matter. Dead or alive, he wasn’t her Nico. Damara never thought that she would have a broken heart. She never thought that any part of her could be broken. And in her mind, she wasn’t broken. She was fighting it with every fiber of her being, but she was. A part of Damara was taken away with Nico that day and it wouldn’t return until he did. So what was she supposed to do until then, wonder if she really was crazy? Wonder if Nico was dead or alive? Damara’s world was darker than it had ever been. It had never been this empty.

Damara had spent the past few weeks in near solitude. She spent most of her time in a secret room hidden deep within the dungeons. No one could find her there. Nothing was safe in the dorm. Damara couldn’t trust anything with demon. She couldn’t show any sign of weakness because that would only help Angela in the end. Angela was her main problem. Damara didn’t know the others girls at all. She wasn’t exactly a social creature. She had spent her years at Hogwarts by herself or with her small group of ‘allies’ and still the only one she could truly trust was Vincent and he didn’t even know everything. Damara had secluded herself from everyone and she was okay with that because she didn’t need anyone else. Damara held her wand, making purple sparks fly from the ends as she day dreamed. If only they were dreams. They were more like nightmares. You can figure out what happened you me. You can. He told her. This was happening more and more. It didn’t happen when she was tired or weak. It happened when she was at her strongest, sometimes at night, but mostly in the middle of the day. She had to stop it, change it. But how could she make this go away?

It felt like he was there. It was never just his voice. It was him. She could see a clear image sitting beside her in the tiny life-less room. It was him. The looks, the sounds, she swore he even smelt like himself, but even in this moment of insanity, Damara knew it couldn’t be him and it was not him. She had to stop herself from talking with him. Instead Damara continued to play around with her wand. Come on Mar. Don’t be that dense. The answers are there if you take your precious time to look for them. He was taunting he just like he always did. That was Nico. That was her Nico. “Stop.” She said finally. He shook his head. I’ll stop when you figure it out. Damara shook her head. “Stop!” She screamed. She heard a blast. The wall in front of her crumbled and the image of Nico was gone. She barely realized what just happened. How did she do that? Never mind. Damara got up and brushed herself off. No one would ever find the ruins but still, what the hell had she become?

Damara wasn’t running this time, but her legs were taking her again. Again, she didn’t know where, but she wasn’t giving that much thought. At least he wasn’t talking to her anymore. He was supposed to be her angel but lately the angel had become a big demon, watching her and causing her pain. Damara walked silently through the halls, nearly ghostlike. Finally she came to the student lounge. Damara creaked the door open, hoping for some solitude. That was not what she found. India Nightingale was lying on the floor. Damara couldn’t blame her. She had heard a lot of rumors about India in the past year. Damara wasn’t sure which ones were true or not nor did she really pay attention to any of them. She had her own rumors to ignore. The only thing Damara knew to be true about the whole situation was that India used to be a brunette and now she was a blond. She didn’t know why. Damara and India had never really talked. Even though they were the darker and less chatty of the dorm mates, they weren’t friends. Damara hadn’t really made the effort to befriend anyone at school, that was just the way it was. Damara closed to door quietly. India obviously did not want to be disturbed. But neither did Damara. Besides, she wasn’t giving her actions too much though. Damara silently walked around India and sat next to the fireplace, and the wall on the opposite side. She was almost completely hidden by tables and couches. Damara pulled and legs to her chest and stared out the ground. Damara sat like that for a good while. Finally, she couldn’t stand the silence anymore. “Have you ever felt like someone’s watching you, or watching over you? Someone that isn’t dead..or might not be.” She asked absently, barely remembering that it was India who would answer. “Is that kind of thing even possible?” The words just came out. Damara didn’t know if India would understand or even reply, but the words were there. And it was now India’s job to deal with them.

[India Nightingale]

It was silent again. But India knew she was not alone. Yet... something was wrong. There was a difference between lonely silence and just ordinary silence, but this was not the latter. It was lonely silence, even with the two girls in the dark and empty Student Lounge. They were lonely. India was lonely. Damara was lonely. She could tell... It was in the air. This was the air India breathed every day of her life; she knew what it was like. It was a suffocating oxygen, a gripping lifeforce. She wanted it to end. But with Damara, the loneliness only seemed to increase tenfold. They were similar people, India could feel it. She could not stand it.

Damara's voice cut through the lonely silence like a sharp, deadly knife. India felt her shoulders relax rather than tense - unknowingly, she had been tensing them ever since Damara's entrance. Ironically, instead of feeling threatened by her classmate's speech, India began to relax. She was thankful for Damara's voice, quiet and lonely in the space between them, actually. The lonely silence was not only silence no longer, but also no longer silent. India could breathe easy... for now. The burden had been temporarily lifted, oddly. So she listened to Damara's words, digested them with a frown. She could hear herself in Damara; the same hollow shell, the same yearning she could never expose or talk about. It made India want to slap her, slap herself; it made her feel human.

"Yes." Her reply was weak, quiet too, wary and short. But it was a reply nonetheless. India felt compelled to answer Damara. Normally she would have ignored the other girl but... why? Why had she spoken? Because it was time for India to change, and she knew it. It was time to open herself, little by little. If it meant she had to talk to strangers, she would. Even though she had grown up, really, with Damara as a dorm-, house- and classmate so she was no stranger, India knew nothing about her and vice versa. Maybe that was about to change.

"Always," India added reluctantly after an awkward pause. "Maybe it's possible." She closed her eyes from the darkness. "I don't know. I thought I knew everything but... I don't know anything. I was naive. I still am naive." India breathed, feeling her breaths come in slow, long gulps. her chest rose up and down from the floor in motion. "I always feel that there is someone... who knows the mistakes I make. The flaws I hate. The problems I have, the things I never want people to know." Despite the increasing emotion, India's voice didn't rise at all in pitch. It stayed soft, diluted, hollow. "It seems I can't get away from the ghosts in my mind. They will chase me... perhaps for eternity. I will never be free until I can run away."

It was a highly personal confession from the girl who could never talk of herself to anyone - especially to a stranger like Damara. But India could feel the bond between them and she could not ignore it. She knew enough about her dormmate to know she would not talk about her to her friends... for she had none, besides, India thought, as she tried to recall, a Hufflepuff brother in a younger year. Damara had always been quite mild and placid until recently... though India did not know why, nor did she care. She hadn't had the time to observe her classmates' behaviours; she had had problems of her own with Drake, with Duke, with men who seemed to want to ruin her life and make it a misery.

"Why?" India eventually asked to thin air, though really it was addressed to an invisible Damara. "Why would you care? Even if they are watching you, what difference does it make?" India's teeth clashed together at the back of her mouth. "Does it make any difference at all? I don't want to care about it. I don't want to think about it. It's beyond my comprehension... There are some things we should not ever know... ever find out about. They are the mysteries of the universe." A hand fell over India's closed eyes and she pondered her own words. She had learnt this lesson. She had learnt about the way of life in this world. She would not expect anything from it again, or try to understand, or try to change it. It was beyond her power, her control, right?

((To be honest, even I can't explain to you what India is really saying. She's confused and messed up and I feel it too! xD I'm tired and well... India doesn't always make sense, heh. Hope it works for you.))

[Damara Hemingway S6]

Tell her. Maybe she would understand. Maybe she could help you. Nico whispered in Damara’s ear. She felt as if she could feel his hot breath. It stung her ear and sent ripples down her spine. It’s not him Damara. She told herself. It’s not him. Don’t say a damn word to anyone about this. Don’t think about him. But her thoughts weren’t helping. They only made his whispers louder. Come on Damara. I love you. I could never just leave you. Figure out why I had to. Figure it out. She wanted to scream. She felt as if she had to scream. But something inside her kept the scream in. She couldn’t take it. She almost felt like if she did scream, she would officially be insane. Maybe she wasn’t insane. Maybe Nico haunting her like this was possible. After all, Damara was a witch. This could be possible, right? Damara needed answers, but she couldn’t get them from India Nightingale. What would she know about this? Damara didn’t know what she would say if Damara directly told her what was happening and Damara didn’t really want to know. So what was she supposed to do?

Running away was an option. Ususally, Damara thought that running was weak, but she wasn’t in the right mind set to really care about such a thing. Damara felt as if she would never care about anything ever again. Maybe that would be helpful. But Damara didn’t want to run. She felt, almost at home here. It was a weird feeling. Damara didn’t feel out of place here was India. It was a strange feeling. Damara felt more out of place in her own Common Room than in the Student Lounge with India. The girls were similar in ways. Damara wasn’t going to admit this now, but a part of her could sense it. Damara almost felt like India would understand. But could she accept this? Or would she call Damara crazy? Maybe she was crazy, but so what? If she was crazy than maybe she was always meant to be that way. Maybe crazy was Damara’s normal. Maybe. Damara bit her bottom lip, feeling the warm drop of blood fall it her tongue. She lightly took her finger and rubbed the cut, then let go. It didn’t even hurt. Not an ounce of pain came over Damara. She had already been through so much pain and loss in her lifetime. Nothing could hurt her more than she had already been hurt.

India gave a simple reply at first. Damara wondered if she would say nothing else. But she spoke again. So maybe this happened to other people. Maybe others didn’t experience the convincing near perfect holograms, but maybe other felt something similar. Damara hadn’t made her statement clear. She hadn’t told the perfect truth, but she wasn’t ready to and maybe she never would be. Maybe Nico would haunt her forever. Maybe she was okay with that. India’s reply confused Damara. Always? She understood? This was not something Damara had expected. India went on to say that she didn’t know anything. Damara felt that way to an extent. A lot of things in her mind had changed. The way she thought about life and death for instance. Now, Damara was almost convinced that there was more to life than just living and dying. There was something about life Damara was missing, but she didn’t know what. Damara listened intently. “This is different.” She said shaking her head. “It’s so real. He’s not just haunting me or helping me. He’s pestering me, just like he always did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m missing something.” She whispered. “I’m missing a piece of the puzzle and he wants me to figure it out.” She said more to herself.

Damara felt as if she would break when India said something about the ghosts chasing her for eternity. The mere image of Nico was tearing her apart. He was killing her. She couldn’t go through this forever. She shook her head back and forth. “This can’t last forever.” She said in her weakened state. “I won’t be able to take it. I’ll break even more.” She said feeling as if she could cry, but coming up empty. India’s confession scared Damara. It scared her more than anyone could understand. Damara raised a weak eye-brow. Why would she care? “Because it hurts!” She screamed, frustrated now. “It hurts so bad. To see his perfect image beside me. It hurts.” She was admitting a lot. Would India understand the perfect images that haunted Damara? Could she understand it? Damara shook her head. She couldn’t live believing in mysteries. She had to believe in everything. “I can’t accept that. I can’t accept that it just is that things just are. Life had to be more than that. It has to be more than this.” She murmured. “It has to be.”

[India Nightingale]

"But that's what people who we care about do, isn't it?" For once, India gave Damara a straight reply. However, she didn't mean to sound snappy, harsh or impatient - or bitter. India's eyes flickered shut for a moment, only listening to her breathing to calm herself, before they re-opened. Only to stare at the blank white canvas that was the ceiling of the Student Lounge. "That's what people we care about always expect, isn't it? They do or say things and expect us to understand them. And when we don't..." India's voice cracked, but she quickly coughed to cover it. "We're all like that. We have our own selfish desires we won't say, but we'll do or say things in the vain attempt that they'll understand our selfishness. But when communication breaks down, what's left? Nothing. When they won't acknowledge you, you get nothing." India could feel her resentment towards life, towards Drake, creep into her voice and she could not stop it. However, she was sure what Damara spoke of had nothing to do with what India thought she was talking about. They were two different people and two different problems. "You just have to guess if they don't make sense," India muttered at last. "And hope you're right."

Damara's honest confession startled India considerably. No one had ever - especially a stranger - been so open with her. Blinking, India didn't know what to do or say. Silence settled over her as Damara continued to speak. Her emptiness, her pain, they flowed from her like ripped-open wounds. India didn't ask questions about who 'he' was; probably a boyfriend? Or an ex-boyfriend. India's eyes darkened at the thought of men. They brought nothing but pain and hurt; Damara was another example of that. It was better to sever yourself completely, right? That was what India had always thought. But then Drake had thrown himself into her life, and now she couldn't stay away; like a drug, she was addicted. She hated it. And it hurt India too. "If you don't want to break, if you don't want it to last forever, then change," India answered bluntly but quietly. "You can't expect other people to change. You can't expect them to see you breaking, or fix you. It's down to you and your own strength." Yes. India's fist tightened by her side. It was by her own hand she would force Drake to stand his ground, look her in the eyes and tell her truth - did he care?

India was still startled by Damara's confession, then her panicked outbursts - this was a girl broken and bruised by life. India felt sympathy - not pity, but sympathy. She didn't used to feel sorry for people, but she felt sorry for Damara. She was broken, just like so many other girls out there... girls like India. At Damara's quieting words, India felt uneasy. She had always believed there was nothing to life. Should she say that? Would Damara start screaming again? Would she be able to take it? India could tell that her classmate was weak - very weak. She was acting like the girl India was a few months ago, when she had discovered her whole life had been a lie, when she had watched it all collapse around her. "If it hurts, then say so," India said in an expressionless yet demanding voice. But who could India tell? Skye? Skye. If she really did break again, she could tell Skye; she could scream at her sister and demand why - why did it hurt like hell? Why was living so difficult?

"I didn't believe in life. I didn't believe there was anything worth living for. And I still don't know if I've given up on that yet," India began saying, knowing it was her turn to speak. Her voice was low, laced with some bitterness, but it was also honest. "But if I'm honest with myself, I know I've been lying to myself. I told myself these things. I made myself believe in nothing. The truth is, there is always something worse. But there is always something better. It's your choice which one you want to believe in. Even though it's easier to believe in something worse, because life hurts, if you don't believe in something better, you might as well not live at all." India's tone turned testy. "What did you expect? That life was going to be wonderful? That's a lie. But it's not as dark as you think it is. You need to find your reason for wanting to continue. Or give up." India found herself standing up, all of a sudden, as though her body was on automatic. Somehow, Damara's words had hit her more than she'd realised; pierced her defences, and now she was shaking with overwhelming emotion. Before Damara or India could even control herself, she was standing before her classmate, who sat, looking meek and vulnerable, and it made India even angrier; this was her, this was herself, this weak and useless human being. Without any warning, India grabbed Damara's wrist and hoisted her up with the little strength she had. Then, with her other hand, she slapped her across the face.

"Dammit, Damara, pull yourself together!" she screamed furiously, bitterly. "Stop it! STOP IT! Pull yourself together and stop being weak! Do you this will accomplish anything? Life sucks, it sucks a lot, but if we just sit here and expect it to suck then it'll just suck even more." India dropped Damara's arm as though and burned and took a step back, breathing heavily. "I don't want to live either," she started again bitterly, her voice choking. "But I don't have a choice. I don't want to hurt, I don't want to feel, but I don't have a choice. So I'm going to face my demons head on. I'm not running away anymore. I'm not going to be you ever again." India's finger didn't point at Damara, but her voice said it all. She wouldn't return to this - a mess. India was not going to be a mess ever again.