She has spun the life I
live; she is my protector, my guardian;
regardless of the life
I'd love to have lived if I had not been born
to this family, she
is still my mother. Though, Bellatrix Lestrange
was never a
mother to brag about, she is nonetheless my mother.
When
I was three, I was sent to the corner for not cleaning my room.
When
I was five, I was told to clean the bathroom with a toothbrush
for
not brushing my teeth. When I was seven I was hit against the
wall
until there were cuts on my face for not smiling properly. When
I
was ten I was tortured with crucio every week for not being
evil
enough, and when I was eleven, I was accepted into Hogwarts.
Hogwarts...
I had read about it, dreamed about it, ached for this
school to
take me under its wings, to teach me everything it could,
and to
save me from my horrible mother.
Life
for an eleven-year-old was getting better. I knew life would
be
great once I was at Hogwarts, maybe I could even give my friends
a
different surname, for a Lestrange at Hogwarts would be a horrible
weight I would not like to lift.
Malfoy... now there is a
name I wouldn't want mentioned near me again.
I hope the younger
Malfoy doesn't go to Hogwarts. He is terrifying.
Not as
terrifying as his father though, Lucius Malfoy...
Silver
hair flowing carelessly over his weak shoulders, a physique
not
worth mentioning, yet still as powerful as my mother, Bellatrix,
she
is an evil witch. She loves blood play, and torture. But, her
way
of torture is by spells and incantations. Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy...
his torture was just as pernicious, but it had a twist which
mother
could never provide. I cannot forget the things Lucius did
to me.
Yes, he violated me physically, but his mental rape was
more
powerful than anything else. He created a shame, an
embarrassment...humiliation in the deepest form. The memories
whisper
constantly in my mind, a stain that cannot be removed,
although
I've tried. Lucius created a cruel joke out of me, and
now I live
with the consequences, from my body, right through to
my very soul.
My
mother introduced me to him when I was eight. By eight and a half
I
was no longer a virgin, by the age of nine I was as experienced as
most crack-whores on the corner of streets. By ten, I was lost;
my
mind wasn't my mind anymore. I was crucio-ed and raped by my
mother
and her friend weekly, I was taunted by Lucius' son Draco
whenever
he was over, and I was still made to wear my "Lestrange"
smile. I
was an empty shell, and that shell was rotting from the
inside out.
I felt lost in more ways than one. I continued to
smile but on the
inside my body, my spirit was broken. The pain
and torture thrust
upon me by my mother and her friends wore me
down until I struggled
to get out of bed without crying out in
agony, the physical acts
force upon me by Lucius wore me down
further, until I couldn't look
in the mirror without seeing
filth. The taunting and the cruel jokes
displayed by everyone who
passed through the Bellatrix household
wore me down until I
couldn't think of myself as anything more than
a waste of space.
But
not anymore, finally, after eleven years of waiting, I'm a
Hogwarts
girl, and, once I get sorted, I will be free. Of course my
mother
will make me go home in the holidays, but that will not be as
bad
as being home with her with no means of escape.
Yes, life
will be brilliant once I am sorted with life away from home.
My
mother, Bellatrix Lestrange, will be proud of me, and I will be
sorted into Slytherin, and life, life will be great.
Slipping
the Sorting hat on my head, I hear the brim of the hat
open, and
hear a name I never thought possible. It lasts for
eternity, what
will mother do? I will be killed for sure.
"Gryffindor."