In which the untold story of Walburga Black unfolds.
She was a witch before she was a wife, mother, and cruel woman.
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"You failed as a mother; I failed as a son. Can you sit here truthfully, and say you love me? Look in my eyes, and say that you...
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𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟏𝟓𝐭𝐡, 𝟏𝟗𝟒𝟒- 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐅𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞
Darkness.
Loneliness...
The emotions she felt the most throughout her short life.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. The shackles placed on her wrists and ankles were bruising; the charm placed on them made it so that they would tighten around her skin every time she moved.
She could feel where her skin began to tear near the fibula bone on her ankles. It was as if her hunger had overthrown any ounce of pain she could feel at that moment.
She was starving, and for a brief moment, she began to think that her mother would never come back for her, that she would leave her here to rot.
No - she couldn't allow herself any room for hope for death, not when hunger had implanted its vicious seed into her brain and stomach.
The only food she was given would turn up twice a day, it was always bread and water in the same place a few feet away from her.
Unlike any other punishment she had endured at the hands of her mother, Walburga found imprisonment to be the most torturous. She could tolerate the other hundreds of methods her mother had created, but this - this was pure agony.
She lost count of how many days she had been chained to the railing in their basement. She figured it had to have been no more than 17 nights at the most.
There was no light, nothing, just the sound of her breathing and the chains as they moved. She quickly concluded that no person should ever be imprisoned - no one should have to suffer through their internal hells in an actual one.
No one should be forced to sit in their filth for so long.
The darkness held something for those in waiting, it contained everything she had been afraid of - it held everything she lacked - most of all, it held everything she ever wanted.
It had a closeness to death that only those imprisoned know like a close friend.
She wondered how many prisoners would give in to the darkness of their prisons and how many would fight it until they felt the sunlight kiss their skin again.
She supposed that her prison was far different from theirs, and yet she felt just as chained to one place as they did.
Shaking her head, her thoughts began to get too loud for her. She sighed as she laid her head on the cold floor, with nothing but her ratty white dress and already drying blood to warm her.
'What a foolish idea' she thought as she began to think about the reason as to why she ended up here in the first place.
