Kiddies! It's chapter four! <3 I think it's the longest chapter...hmm...-Supa Ty
“Now we are going to open the green door, the heart chakra…” Dee wasn’t really dying, and she knows she doesn’t need to listen to this crap, but on certain days it made her feel zen. Guided Meditation, what the dying cancerous people do to make themselves feel better. The record player went on.
“...And you open the door and you step inside. We're inside our hearts. Now, imaging your pain as a white ball of healing light. That's right; the pain itself is a ball of healing light.”
Today, she felt like premature enlightenment.
“Dee?” A voice from in front of her said. Her eyes were closed, but she could easily recognize the voice as her sister’s.
“Dee, its lunch. I know you felt like skipping Transfiguration and Charms and all that…but maybe we should get to class?”
“Mmm, okay.” She got up and turned the record off.
“You know mother doesn’t like it when you listen to that crap.”
“Yeah, well ‘mother’ doesn’t appreciate us so much. I think we should re-think the way we think of her. Now, let’s go get some lunch.”
“Now, you're standing at the entrance to your cave. You step inside your cave and you walk. Keep walking.”
Dee was sitting in potions. She could care less what ever Snape was talking about. Sara and Am were on ether side of her, mindlessly paying attention.
“Dee! Are you sleeping?” Sara poked her with her quill.
“Premature enlightenment.”
“Damnit, you know your sister hates that.”
“So…?”
“Well maybe we should respect her wishes.”
“Fine, but did you know with the right amount of soap you can blow up anything?”
“No, I did not know that.”
“It’s true.”
“I'm sure it is.”
“Without sacrifice, without death, we would have nothing.”
“Yeah. So what are you going tonight?”
“Tonight…” She began, throwing a crumbled up paper ball at the back of George’s head, who was sitting in front of her, “Tonight, I’m making soap.”
“So you got my note?” Dee stood in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. George let out a small sigh.
“Yes, we got it.”
“So how do we make soap?” Fred asked.
“Well, let’s go inside and I’ll tell you.” She muttered the password and walked inside. There was a cauldron over a fireplace in the corner.
“Okay, gather ‘round.” She said, stirring the boiling pot.
“To make soap, first we have to render fat. The best fat for making soap-because the salt balance is just right-comes form human bodies...”
“So you got this, this fat from people?” She took a sip from the bottle of whiskey that had been sitting on the floor.
“Yes. Now, as the fat renders, the tallow floats to the surface. Remember the crap they taught you in Boy Scouts. This clear layer is glycerin. We'll mix it back in when we make the soap.” She sticks a spoon into the cauldron and lifts up a scoop of the glycerin layer. Then, she grabs a can, and opens it. The two men watch her silently.
“Lye-the crucial ingredient. Ancient peoples found their clothes got cleaner if they washed them at a certain spot in the river. Why? Because, human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Year after year, bodies burnt. Rain feel. Water seeped through the wood ashes to become lye. The lye combined with the melted fat of the bodies, till a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river.
“The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes. Like the first monkeys shot into space.” She made a hysterical laugh, and took another drink.
“Okay, boys,” Dee said, “this will be the best damn soap you’ve even used.” She paused. “If you even use soap.”
“We use soap…” Fred mumbled.
“I’m sure.” She was sweaty from the heat of the fire. Her white tee shirt was already see-through as it is.
“Is that is?” George impatiently asked.
“I could have given you a chemical burn. Would you have liked that?”
“No…”
“Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction is the answer…” She laughed hysterically again. Her voice was trailing off and her grey eyes were gleaming. You could even see them in the dark, George thought.
“You’re crazy, did you know that?” George told her. He studied her silhouette in the dark.
Her figure was standing in a perch-like stance over the cauldron. A wide grin is spread across her face as she looks at the pot.
“I’m going to call it a night, then.”
“Do what you please.” He silently left the room. It was now unusually quiet. After a while, she sat down next to Fred wither bottle of whiskey in her hands.
“Fred,” she laughed that crazy laugh again, “What’s up?”
“I think you’re drunk.”
“Sometimes it’s fun being alive.” Dee got up to stir the pot again. “The best damn soap in this whole place. We should make some napalm next…” She fished her hand in her pocket. Dee finds what she wanted, a pack of cigarettes.
“Those kill people, you know.”
“That’s not even the worst of it.” She lit it with her wand.
“Sophie says they give you cancer.”
“I’m thinking your sister is right.” It was a cold night, and all she had on was that white shirt and the same faded blue jeans she wore a month ago on Christmas. She offers him a cigarette. He declines.
“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything…” She whispered it into his ear.
“Have you lost everything?”
“No, but I’m getting there.” By this point, her bottle was almost empty and she was leaning on him for support. He looked at her and studied her face. She often said that she looked like her mother, only that she was nothing like her. Fred looked into her eyes. Slowly, he took the cigarette out of her mouth and threw it into the fire. Then, he kissed her. When their lips separated, he stood in shock of what he had just done.
"What?"
"You taste like whiskey." A wide grin cracked across her face.
"Shall we go on?” He made a small nod. She instantly took of her shirt and he kissed her again.
And fade to black <3
“Now we are going to open the green door, the heart chakra…” Dee wasn’t really dying, and she knows she doesn’t need to listen to this crap, but on certain days it made her feel zen. Guided Meditation, what the dying cancerous people do to make themselves feel better. The record player went on.
“...And you open the door and you step inside. We're inside our hearts. Now, imaging your pain as a white ball of healing light. That's right; the pain itself is a ball of healing light.”
Today, she felt like premature enlightenment.
“Dee?” A voice from in front of her said. Her eyes were closed, but she could easily recognize the voice as her sister’s.
“Dee, its lunch. I know you felt like skipping Transfiguration and Charms and all that…but maybe we should get to class?”
“Mmm, okay.” She got up and turned the record off.
“You know mother doesn’t like it when you listen to that crap.”
“Yeah, well ‘mother’ doesn’t appreciate us so much. I think we should re-think the way we think of her. Now, let’s go get some lunch.”
“Now, you're standing at the entrance to your cave. You step inside your cave and you walk. Keep walking.”
Dee was sitting in potions. She could care less what ever Snape was talking about. Sara and Am were on ether side of her, mindlessly paying attention.
“Dee! Are you sleeping?” Sara poked her with her quill.
“Premature enlightenment.”
“Damnit, you know your sister hates that.”
“So…?”
“Well maybe we should respect her wishes.”
“Fine, but did you know with the right amount of soap you can blow up anything?”
“No, I did not know that.”
“It’s true.”
“I'm sure it is.”
“Without sacrifice, without death, we would have nothing.”
“Yeah. So what are you going tonight?”
“Tonight…” She began, throwing a crumbled up paper ball at the back of George’s head, who was sitting in front of her, “Tonight, I’m making soap.”
“So you got my note?” Dee stood in front of the entrance to the Slytherin common room. George let out a small sigh.
“Yes, we got it.”
“So how do we make soap?” Fred asked.
“Well, let’s go inside and I’ll tell you.” She muttered the password and walked inside. There was a cauldron over a fireplace in the corner.
“Okay, gather ‘round.” She said, stirring the boiling pot.
“To make soap, first we have to render fat. The best fat for making soap-because the salt balance is just right-comes form human bodies...”
“So you got this, this fat from people?” She took a sip from the bottle of whiskey that had been sitting on the floor.
“Yes. Now, as the fat renders, the tallow floats to the surface. Remember the crap they taught you in Boy Scouts. This clear layer is glycerin. We'll mix it back in when we make the soap.” She sticks a spoon into the cauldron and lifts up a scoop of the glycerin layer. Then, she grabs a can, and opens it. The two men watch her silently.
“Lye-the crucial ingredient. Ancient peoples found their clothes got cleaner if they washed them at a certain spot in the river. Why? Because, human sacrifices were once made on the hills above this river. Year after year, bodies burnt. Rain feel. Water seeped through the wood ashes to become lye. The lye combined with the melted fat of the bodies, till a thick white soapy discharge crept into the river.
“The first soap was made from the ashes of heroes. Like the first monkeys shot into space.” She made a hysterical laugh, and took another drink.
“Okay, boys,” Dee said, “this will be the best damn soap you’ve even used.” She paused. “If you even use soap.”
“We use soap…” Fred mumbled.
“I’m sure.” She was sweaty from the heat of the fire. Her white tee shirt was already see-through as it is.
“Is that is?” George impatiently asked.
“I could have given you a chemical burn. Would you have liked that?”
“No…”
“Self improvement is masturbation. Now self destruction is the answer…” She laughed hysterically again. Her voice was trailing off and her grey eyes were gleaming. You could even see them in the dark, George thought.
“You’re crazy, did you know that?” George told her. He studied her silhouette in the dark.
Her figure was standing in a perch-like stance over the cauldron. A wide grin is spread across her face as she looks at the pot.
“I’m going to call it a night, then.”
“Do what you please.” He silently left the room. It was now unusually quiet. After a while, she sat down next to Fred wither bottle of whiskey in her hands.
“Fred,” she laughed that crazy laugh again, “What’s up?”
“I think you’re drunk.”
“Sometimes it’s fun being alive.” Dee got up to stir the pot again. “The best damn soap in this whole place. We should make some napalm next…” She fished her hand in her pocket. Dee finds what she wanted, a pack of cigarettes.
“Those kill people, you know.”
“That’s not even the worst of it.” She lit it with her wand.
“Sophie says they give you cancer.”
“I’m thinking your sister is right.” It was a cold night, and all she had on was that white shirt and the same faded blue jeans she wore a month ago on Christmas. She offers him a cigarette. He declines.
“It’s only after we’ve lost everything that we’re free to do anything…” She whispered it into his ear.
“Have you lost everything?”
“No, but I’m getting there.” By this point, her bottle was almost empty and she was leaning on him for support. He looked at her and studied her face. She often said that she looked like her mother, only that she was nothing like her. Fred looked into her eyes. Slowly, he took the cigarette out of her mouth and threw it into the fire. Then, he kissed her. When their lips separated, he stood in shock of what he had just done.
"What?"
"You taste like whiskey." A wide grin cracked across her face.
"Shall we go on?” He made a small nod. She instantly took of her shirt and he kissed her again.
And fade to black <3
