never trust a big butt and a smile (obeetaybee) wrote,
never trust a big butt and a smile
obeetaybee

FIC: Forsaken (Bellatrix)

Title: Forsaken
Character(s): Bellatrix
Prompt: in the room where women come and go
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 348
Summary: Wherein the madness begin?
Author's Note:Written for 7spells, my claim is Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rastaban.



Lying on her stomach by the cellar door, she hums tunelessly, her pale and spindly fingers carelessly wrapping a tendril of hair around the ribs of a dead mouse.

Mother is screaming and baby sister tries to compete. Father paces in the room where women come and go.

No one remembers little Bella.

She lies in the dying sunlight, her naked thighs dirty, knees bent and feet swinging. With a huff and a sigh, she flings the carcass into the high grass. She’s the cat in the cupboard and mice bore her now. She wants to see her mother, wants to study her face as she struggles to force the parasite from between her legs. Bella wants to rub her mother’s hair between her fingers and feel it against her tongue.

She watches the moths approach the flame in the open window, their wings purple in the gloaming. Thistles surround her and she wants to run into their arms.

The willow is where she could go. The tree will offer her the solace of silence and the view she desires. She climbs one bare foot and one hand at a time, the knuckles of the gnarled tree biting into her soft flesh. Blood wells from her many wounds and her mother and the screaming is forgotten. Tilting her head as her feet dangle yards above the ground, crimson swells and breaks on her hand, running down her arm in a ragged line.

Such a wicked little girl, she thinks as a smile plays along her lips. She feels no pain as she brings her arm to her lips, her tongue seeking and finding the river of red. Copper bursts in her mouth as the sun sinks beneath the horizon.

The wind whispers through the trees, branches floating towards her face before retreating under her gaze.

The bow in her hair untangles and gently flutters to the ground. Hair falls in her mouth, shafts grind. If she stands on this bough and steps off, would she fly?

The moon rises behind her and the screaming continues into the night.
Tags: bellatrix/rodolphus/rastaban, obeetaybee
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