[ Authors note: A small monologue I created from the depths of Bellatrix's mind.. And somewhat from my own. Enjoy. Lou.. X]
Insanity. A word that is used too flippantly nowadays. 'If you think you are, you're not and if you don't think you are then you are.' A saying that has always baffled me because I know that I am..
I just don't believe it. There's a certain comfort in the lack of control, a relief of conscience if you like. And I do have one, a conscience I mean. Not that people see that... No, all they see is the crazed eyes and black mess of hair as I strike down my prey with uncompromising fury.
A lesser woman might admit these doubtful thoughts but I am one of a dying breed, a strong, proud and noble martyr in these the blackest hours of our time. I am used to the black now. Not just the physical darkness as I rot in this cell, the blackness that grows inside when for so long you have railed against all that is deemed right and true.
Isolation only seems to feed the void, yet I do not feel alone. There's always another scratching away at the back of my skull, just waiting until the point where I break. Moments like that give birth to the woman that they see, the ones who stand with fear in their eyes.
It seems unfair that I am the one persecuted, spat at and ashamed when it's that other person inside of me they seek to destroy. But as soon as that revelation blooms it wits and falls to the cold stone floor where it settles with the rags and chains in which I am bound, leaves me empty.
Empty. That is the word that I am looking for.
Just empty.