And they say that there are things to remember.
And what is there to remember, anyway? I remember so much, remember every second and remember nothing except long periods of darkness where I would sink into myself, into the world and away from everything round me. And I remember that I hated.
I hated Roudolphous, lying traitorous bastard in the cell next to me, whispering comforting things at first. I remember lying on the floor staring at a crack through the ceiling, not answering him, and I remember that he stopped after a while. I remember that I tried to stop eating, going weeks without food, then suddenly ripping into all the stale bread in the corner of my cell, clawing away at it and tearing with my teeth at it like I wanted to rip out at him.
I remember being alone. I was always alone, all the time, every minute of every second, alone with the memories in my family. Memories of Andromeda, staring at me expressionlessly, "I can't stand you," her voice colder and crueler because I had heard it so tender, so loving. I remember Narcissa, watching me at night, glowing in the dark like the ghosts of my past, her eyes boring into me with a coldness that went down into the depths of her lifeless soul.
And Sirius.
I remember.
Lying on the cold floor of the cell, staring through a crack in the ceiling, watching the Dog Star twinkling in the midst of winter when snow came in through the cracks and I lie under the blanket and shivered so hard that my bones knocked on the pale floor. I remember his goodness, the way he always laughed at me when I tried to show him I was better. And he was older, two years and a couple of branches away, putting me down in everything I did. Remember the look in his eyes when his voice hissed with hate, "Don't you ever touch James, Bella. You may be my cousin but you will not take my brother away from me." And I hated him because he loved James more than he loved me. He loved that prat more than his own cousin. I should have been his sister, his family, the one he turned to, not that pathetic Gryffindor do-gooder.
Yes, I remember.
I remember the wind whispering through the dark confines of my cell, whispering into my soul, worthless, ugly, evil bella, bad girl, worthlessuglyevilslutwhore in my mind until it was burned into my soul, carved into my mind over and over. I remember curling up in the floor, hands over my head, anything to keep the whispers away but they never went away. And then I found shelter.
In the Mark.
The mark of my blood, the mark of my life, the mark of the Lord that I serve and the only thing that kept me from death in that place. I did not need a wand to summon His protection--only the mark on my arm, black as my dreams, black as my hair and my eyes and my past. Black as my soul.
And the star that tried to burn it away.
Now he is no more. And I have finally done what I always wanted to do.
I promised him Sirius's life for my protection.
And I remembered that. It was my mantra repeated every single day until it was my only reason for existing. So close, just down the long dark hall yet worlds away in his safety. I hated him. And hate was the only thing that kept me alive.
Azkaban.
I remember.
Notes: Answer from a challenge by Lossen at the Blackaholics (see my LJ). PG-13 for inneuendo Bella/Andromeda if you didn't catch it.