Prologue
"I am Bellatrix Black; I have three scars, one from my Father, one from myself, and one from him, Rodulphus. These scars—memories are my life. They remind me of the things that kept me up at night, gripping my nails into my stone bed in fear. The things that blocked my airways, swelled my tongue, tied knots in my throat, stopped and hardened my heart, and brought tears down my cheeks. There were things, no one single person, who mended those scars, until he created one."
Words of the past flood my mind. Distant memories encompass every thought, every movement. I feel like I'm in a full body cast. My mind is racing, and my heart pacing, wildly around my ribcage. The sweat pours from every orifice, trickling, stinging. I think one could tell from the scars on my arms, the stains on my skirt, and the purple sores about to burst, that I'm not the most delicate girl, not the happiest girl.
There is evidence in this room of deep absorption of madness over time. If I were to call it a room, that would be the darkest lie. There is no floor, no windows, and no circulation. It's merely a dark pit destined for me. I have held onto this room so long, and I won't hold on any longer.
I'm not hiding my scratches, my wounds, my lesions. I won't deny my suicide attempts. I just continue breathing, my breathing is shaking me. My need to keep my hands busy is undying. My nails dig, but not deep enough.
The smell of erosion and decay never wanes, as I feel my brain disintegrate into lunacy. The cold is always present. The option of putting on a jacket or sitting by the fireplace is no longer a solution for me. It's the cold that's is killing me, tearing apart my mind, soul, and body. I don't think you believe me. This is not the way I am; this is the way I was made to be.
Know that because of the red in my eyes, and the bruises consuming my flesh that I'm not in the mood for games. Please understand that I've been here far too long. My past memories seem to have withered away. Happiness—normality seems so far away, as though it were a dream and never reality.
I find the more things change, the more they stay the same. I want to stay the same. If I stand perfectly still, to breathlessness, then maybe time would freeze. Maybe time would eradicate the pain. I don't want to leave my box, because if I built up the courage to leave this place, the pain might be worse.
I imagine one day I'll escape my fate and I will go on to lead a regular life but in the deepest corners of my mind, I know I'll never be anything ordinary. I've always believed in the make believe. I pretend I have a soul beneath my outer core, but I'll always be soulless.
You must have realized that I've lost myself in my imprisonment. There's no cure for this. I've been too precarious and naïve, like a daisy in battle. There was a time when I was shy, times I laughed, times I loved. Forsake everything you've heard, but hear me now; I wasn't always this way…