Throughout the week, I hear stories of "mudbloods" being captured and taken to the dungeons below Malfoy Manor. I wish to visit them, but as Tom keeps me locked in my room, this is nearly impossible.
He's also taken my wand from me, so I can't use any spells or contact anyone. Not that it matters; I've had almost no energy to do anything. No one comes to my door, except to slide a tray of food under the door, not that it matters; I don't eat any of it anyway. I feel more like a prisoner than a bride-to-be. All I can do is sleep. When I'm can't sleep, I'm lying in bed looking at the roof of the bed with a sort of vacant stare.
Then one day, as I lie in my bed, I hear my lock click and the door open. In the edge of my vision, I see Tom making his way towards my bedside.
"I see you're still here," he says, matter-of-factly.
"I nearly tripped over the piles of food trays at your door."
I say nothing, just stare at the same spot I always stare at.
"Have you gone deaf? Do you have nothing to say to your future husband?" he asks with a sliver of anger in his voice.
Once again, nothing.
"Have you been eating?"
This question is surprisingly gentler compared to how he usually speaks, but I try not to show my shock.
"You don't look well. It's not becoming of the bride of the Dark Lord. She must be the image of perfection."
Not surprisingly he doesn't truly care about my well-being, simply his reputation and power. I shut my eyes when I suddenly feel something grab my arm.
"How dare you ignore me!" Tom hisses as he pulls my arm.
I turn around and pull back.
"Don't touch me," I spit with a surprising amount of force in my tone.
"I may be your bride, but I am not a doll for you to play with."
He glares at me with fury in his eyes. I try to not seem intimidated, but honestly, he scares me slightly.
"You're just like your mother," he hisses back.
"But I'm not her," I say flatly.
"I am me."
Before he can say anything else, I burrow back under the covers.
"Why aren't you happy?" he snaps.
"I'm about to give you a life of riches, glory, and worship and this is how you thank me? You ungrateful wench! But you'll soon learn to love me. You'll learn to be grateful to your husband!"
I hear him stomp against the floor before slamming the door and locking it shut. After a few moments, I come out from under the covers and try to stand on the floor, but my body is frail from the lack of food the past week; I stumble and fall against my bed. It takes my mind a few moments to even process my surroundings.
If this is how eternity is going to be, I don't want to be here for it.
All of a sudden, I spy a fair-sized glass window. And out of the corner of my eye is a small clock. Carefully I balance myself as I fumble over to it. I try to lift it and it is surprisingly heavy. Heavy enough to break glass.
With my dwindling mental energy, I concoct a plan.