A/N: Very short and pointless...the first thing I've bothered to publish. Bellatrix/Rodolphus...enjoy.
It's been too long.
Another tiny cut across my body. The blood stains the cold stone floor of my cell.
For the four thousand seven hundred eighty-fifth time.
Since I last saw you.
Each droplet takes some of my sanity with it. As the crimson caresses my leg, I think of you. And I scream.
Four thousand seven hundred eighty-five times.
I don't know if you can hear me.
You're all I have left. All the memories have flown away through the bars on my window. Or maybe they're just hiding.
Like I've been.
For four thousand seven hundred eighty-five days. Behind the shadows, within the cold mist and the damp walls and the crimson stone. I'm still there.
Just barely.
And maybe you are too. Maybe you've counted the crimson cuts for thirteen years and forty-seven days. And maybe you think of me.
Maybe you scream and I can't hear you.
What if we never stop hiding?
What happens when our voices can't scream, when our sanity is gone?
And there is no crimson left to paint with...
Four thousand seven hundred eighty-five days.
I'm bleeding for you.
But you don't know it.
You can't see me.