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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:16:06 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:16:06 GMT
"I'm a 'mudblood'." I say after a moment. "Biologically. The Hunt family were pure and it wasn't spread around that my parents were 'useless muggles'."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:17:56 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:17:56 GMT
I flinch as he calls himself that,"Don't use that word Ian,"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:20:38 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:20:38 GMT
"Sorry," I say. I knew most people hated that word, but I'd never really understood why.
It was just a word.
And it had always been thrown around loosely when I was younger.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:29:03 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:29:03 GMT
"I don't get why so many people use that hateful word,"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:31:15 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:31:15 GMT
"Because some people don't know any better. Some people think it's accurate." I shrug.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:34:50 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:34:50 GMT
"Well it's not."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:36:42 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:36:42 GMT
"You think I don't know that? You think I thought my parents were useless because they were muggles?"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:40:57 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:40:57 GMT
"I'm not saying you dont," I say keeping my cool,"But you never really talk to me about your parent do you? So how am I suppose to know what you think of them?" I counter.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:42:51 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:42:51 GMT
"Because they were useless." I say, "That's why I don't talk about them. They were useless and pathetic and they brought what they got on themselves so I don't care about them." I shrug.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:44:59 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:44:59 GMT
"Is what what you think about your real parents? They ones who loved you? The ones who gave you life?" I ask.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:48:19 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:48:19 GMT
"They didn't love me. Not at all." I laugh wryly. "My father killed himself two days before I was even born. Rowan thought that was funny when he found out. 'You're real father splattered his brains all over the wall, Chris'. My mother hung herself about a month later. If that's what you call loving your child then I disagree. The Hunts adopted me when I was 6 and they weren't much better. That's that, I guess."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:50:14 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:50:14 GMT
I look down sadly,"I'm sorry," I mutter.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:51:14 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:51:14 GMT
"I'm not. Fuck them. I didn't need them." I shrug.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:54:14 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 17:54:14 GMT
"Everyone needs thier family Ian." I say softly,"Even you."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 17:59:21 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 17:59:21 GMT
"Why should I need them? They didn't need or want me. I managed on my own, and that suits me fine."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:00:27 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:00:27 GMT
"Are you saying you never wondered what it was like to have a family? To have someone love and care for you?"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:02:26 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:02:26 GMT
"No," I say, "Never."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:03:03 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:03:03 GMT
"Even when you felt lost and alone?"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:07:29 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:07:29 GMT
"I'm always alone. Everyone's always alone. You can be surrounded by people, but it's just you, isn't it? When it comes down to it. You can't trust anyone else, or try too hard, because you'll just fall flat on your face. As for being lost, no. I know exactly what I'm doing, which is staying alive. I don't need a family to help me do that." I shrug.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:08:24 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:08:24 GMT
"Your not always alone, there's always someone with you, even if you can't seem them," I agrue. "And as for staying alive-"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:10:15 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:10:15 GMT
"When you're hurt, physically or emotionally, you can be with other people, but do they feel it? Do they feel your pain? No. Just like you wouldn't feel theirs. We go through everything alone, no one else is with you."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:14:01 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:14:01 GMT
"That's not true," I start.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:16:49 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:16:49 GMT
"Prove it."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:19:43 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:19:43 GMT
I glare at him stubbornly,"You just don't belive it because you've never had a bond with anyone. I have, with my dad, with my mum, with Serry." I tuck my hair behind my ear."I always knew what my mum was going through when she was sick and in the hospital, when she was hurting I was too. Because we had such a strong bond, you wouldnt understand it,"
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:23:35 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:23:35 GMT
"You're right, I wouldn't. I don't. I don't understand how anyone manages to bond with anyone else. To me it's just setting yourself up for a fall. And for you're information I have...trusted people."
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:25:14 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:25:14 GMT
"You dont understand?" I ask raising an eyebrow. "I'll show you then," I say stepping forward,"You got a pocket knife?" I ask.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:30:17 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:30:17 GMT
"I've got Row's." I say, handing her Rowan's knife.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:30:45 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:30:45 GMT
I flip it open,"Give me your hand," I tell him.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:32:01 GMT
Post by Ian Hunt on Jun 15, 2007 18:32:01 GMT
I arch an eyebrow, holding out my hand.
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Hiding
Jun 15, 2007 18:37:27 GMT
Post by Madeline Speare on Jun 15, 2007 18:37:27 GMT
I take his hand in mine and open his palm. I swipe the pocket knife over his skin giving him a narrow cut across the palm of his hand,"Your blood." I say and then do the same to my own hand,the opposite hand that I cut his though. I flinch a bit as I cut myself,"My blood. I press both of our hands together,"Our blood."
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