* ˚ ✦ 𝖆𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖊. she felt so alone. dark. empty. she was void of all emotions. her mother abandoned her when she was young- no she neglected her child, practically ripping her out of the womb. her father dead, killed by his own wife. her first co...
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... september 1, 1993
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 nova lancaster would take a bullet for, would be the person pointing the gun at her. she doesn't trust; thinking there's no need to rely on others, because in a split second, they could change their mind, abandon you, and throw you overboard your very own ship.
she's not one to think about others, because she grew up in a selfish household; one that had a lack of empathy and an ever-so prominent incline towards a pure-blooded mindset. she never met her father, never given the chance to ask about him— so she assumed the worst and believed he was dead, her mother being the reason for his death. she let her wild imagination consume her thoughts. she pictured her father as a kind-hearted man who had just fallen into the wrong hands of a woman. but considered a disarray in her mother's line of famous slytherin-supremacist family, the young girl's mother stowed her away from society, hiding her from the wizarding world.
she was frightened by her own family, scared that she would be treated the same way her mother saw of her. this proved to be ineffective, however, because the young girl's mother had kept nova an entire secret; not telling a single soul about her survival. as much as nova knew— which wasn't much at all, not a single wizard or witch knew about her existence, knowing that a woman like bellatrix could never have a child, knowing that she was only capable of basking in other people's pain, their deaths. it was sickening.
bellatrix black was not fit to be considered a good mother, or so as nova believed. by the young age of six, nova had endured years of famine, neglectance, and countless years of verbal abuse. if it weren't for a handsome man with billowing black robes, nova would have never escaped her rusty prison bars, led away from the one place she had ever known and forced into a barren orphanage with a group of young girls just like her.
although the young girl considered herself equivalents to the girls, they thought otherwise. there would come freak accidents— unexplainable accidents, where mysterious items would fall off of shelves, or candles would blow out randomly. she knew that she was a witch, a 'useless one' as her mother would have put it, saying she was 'no better than a squib,' but never learned to control her powers without the help of another magical soul.
the quiet girl knew that even though the girls never bothered her, they never looked at her the same. the girls at the orphanage would secretly whisper behind her back about her looks, how her messy black hair always stuck up in odd directions, or how her smile was always crooked and asymmetrical.
her self-confidence was never high, but it slipped to an all time low as the girls snickered and pointed fingers at her. nova never made an attempt to converse with anybody, she stood alone— sticking out like a sore thumb. no one wanted to befriend the timid girl, she not wanting anybody to stand by her side because she believed the words that people said to her were true. she agreed with the negativity pointed towards her because that was the only thing she had ever known to withstand.
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