Inner Thoughts: Chapter Two
My name is Rebecca Noel. I am fifteen years old and I am a prisoner in my own skin, in my own mind. Someone is watching my every move since I was twelve, and by watching I mean influencing… dictating. He claims he loves me. He tells me that he doesn't want to hurt me, but I am too unwilling, and I need to be taught to obey. He tells me he will come for me one day. Sometimes I hope that day is soon so the voice in my head, that isn't my conscience, will stop.
The boy- the man who has infiltrated my mind is an all powerful being. I don't know if he's considered human like he once was. He looks like he did fifty years ago- young, and full of life, but on the inside, he is a monster. His soul has been ripped to shreds by the countless murders he has committed, and most of it lives on outside his body. I can see into his mind, he can see into my soul. He has no heart, feelings, or conscience of any kind. Those who fear him call him he-who-must-not-be-named. His followers call him the dark lord. I call him Tom Marvolo Riddle. But, he is most commonly known as Lord Voldemort.
The situation wasn't bad until about two years ago, when my dear Tom was resurrected from the grave. Or at least, that's what the world believes. In honesty, he lived on through his shredded soul, his horcruxes. He lives on through Harry, he lives on through me. He's been telling me since that night, that his true home was my mind, that even if he didn't have a body, he'd always be home. I hate my dear Tom Riddle, but I am his prisoner, and he is my warden.
Draco and I sit in the middle of his Prefect Room clutching one another for dear support. I feel an unseen hand caress my cheek, attempting to coax my tears away. I don't know if Draco is aware of the connection I share with Tom, but I would be shocked if he thought I was a normal girl. The way I never wear low cut shirts, and never let anyone see my bare chest. How I hiss in pure pain when I make a snarky comment regarding the Dark Lord. Surely he has noticed at some point the small imprint of a miniature dark mark gracing the ivory skin of my chest.
"Oh Draco," I whisper, "Why do you let him do this to you?"
"Because," Draco sobs backing away to look me in the eye, "He tells me that if I disobey him, he'll kill my mother, and father… and he tells me that he will kill you!"
Draco thinks he is obeying Tom for my protection… when I am the one who is keeping Draco alive.
"Oh, my dearest… you don't know how much I love you… but you also don't understand that your life is more valuable than mine."
Draco stops and looks at me, all traces of sadness and pain gone. What I see is different and unexpected; rage and lust. I only wish he could understand what I mean by Value. Tom would never kill me, he wouldn't dare to. I am one of his means of life. By destroying me he is destroying himself. I only wish that I could explain this to my clueless beloved.
Draco grabs my shoulders and speaks in his calmest of voices, the one he uses when he is at his most panicked. "Never say that again."