She practically stomped all the way to the stables. She was so irritated, she just wanted to scream or cry or destroy something, anything. Even a simple chirp that was too loud had the power to make her want to fight someone. She didn't know why at all, but she was just oh so mad!
She plopped down on the snowy ground and leaned against the stone wall. She was seething, her confusion adding onto her anger within every second that passed. She simply did not know what to do about her anger, and that also made it worse. Every single tiny detail of anything and everything seemed to just pile onto her anger, festering into a large boil in the back of her brain. She screamed at absolutely nothing, causing some birds in a nearby treeline to fly away from their nests. Phoebe thought about all of the abandoned chicks still in the nest, and that added onto her anger.
"Are you kidding me? Go back to your nests, you stupid, worthless birds! Your chicks are there, you cowards!" she screamed, too angry to realize that she was acting completely insane. She was so angry, she started crying from all of the irritation. It was possible that she knew how crazy she was acting, but she just didn't care. She didn't care at all. If it were up to her, she'd sit in a pitch black, sound-proof room with nobody else.
She grabbed the snow in fistfuls, feeling it compress and melt in her hands. She breathed heavily, noticing the stinging sensation in her hands that occurred during frostnip. She let go of the snow and screamed again, not caring about anything. She didn't care if any students, professors, or animals heard; she only wanted to feel calm, and the fact that she couldn't make herself calm made her mad.
"I hate this stupid school, I hate this stupid snow, I hate those stupid birds, I hate stupid winter and stupid Christmas, I hate my dead parents, and I hate my stupid handkerchiefs!" she bellowed, not thinking about what she was yelling about. She didn't doubt her voice was loud enough to reach even the Slytherin common room, but she just didn't care. She didn't care if she interrupted any classes or whatever. She had never ever been so irritated before.
She breathed heavily, the fire in her chest beginning to die out. She rubbed the tears from her eyes. Phoebe was still irritated, but she was too exhausted to express it. All she could do at that moment was sleep, and sleep she did. Out in the cold, hands tucked in her lap.
The trees cry in autumn because their hearts are growing cold.