Young Writers Society

In My Own Eyes

By:Shadow Princess16

Mod: Name removed from post.

Prologue

I was only thirteen years old when I was sent to live at Lyons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. My father was dead and my mother, who had killed him, was abroad. We had no living family members, and so the Wizarding community had sent us to live under the care of Alfred Lyons, Headmaster of Lyons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. After that, our lives changed drastically. We went from living in a giant three story mansion to living in a seven story castle with turrets and hidden rooms. It was quite a change. We weren’t used to having servants waiting on us hand and foot. Back at the mansion, we had to do everything ourselves but when we moved into the castle that all changed. When we moved into the mansion, we were waited on hand and foot. Rosalina, Ryan, and I didn’t take advantage of this as the younger three did. (Our three younger brothers were only two years old and were loving having servants.) Instead of letting the servants wait on us, we would usually do things for ourselves. We hated to let them do too much for us.

I remember the night that my mother brutally murdered my father. It was Ryan, Rosalina, and my sixteenth birthday. We were having a great time until mother and father got into a huge argument. Mother announced the thing we’d all known, but somehow suppressed: She was the infamous Lady Murder. She was the one that had killed over twenty families already. Right before she cursed our father into oblivion she told him who she really was. Then she used the infamous Black Lung Curse on our father, killing him instantly. I remember screaming out for him, but there was no way to bring him back. He was dead, killed by the most powerful curse in the history of the Wizarding World. Now, nothing could bring him back.

That very night we vowed revenge. Our father was dead, killed by the most powerful witch of her time, and we promised that we would one day bring retribution to the woman that we once called our mother. We would not let her crimes go without notice. We, unlike so many others, were not afraid of our mother. We knew her every weakness, and you could bet that we were going to use it against her. But we didn’t know what she would become in the coming months. She would become the most powerful dark witch of all time. But she would never change truly. No, she would simply become more hostile. Time would make her face even more beautiful than before, but this beauty was only skin deep. She would always be the same, cruel, cold, hostile woman that she always was. Nothing could change that. Nothing.

Our mother was one of the most dangerous people in the Wizarding World. She was the most beautiful and yet icy woman that ever walked this earth. Many men fell for her but she simply used them for her own benefit and then killed them. Even the women couldn’t help but to stare when she walked into a room. She was truly a beautiful woman. With long blood-red hair that hung down to her waist in soft spiral curls, blue eyes, and a magnificent body our mother was a woman to die for. She looked almost exactly like me, except with one different. My hair is straight and hers is not. But we are different in many other ways as well. I am a kind-hearted, loving person who would go out of her way to protect those close to her and my mother is a cold-hearted, unloving woman who would kill anyone that gets in the way of what she wants.

My mother has six children. Rosalina and I have an older brother named Jake, and we have three younger brothers named Alec, Michael, and Allen. Jake was the oldest, he was seventeen. Rosalina and I were the second youngest at thirteen. Even at our young ages, we knew that our mother wasn’t a very good person from the very start, and we all could tell that our father did his best to try and protect us from her. Sometimes, his efforts worked, and sometimes they did not. But even when his efforts to protect us failed, we still loved him because he, at least, loved us. That’s more than our mother could ever do. She could never love anyone the way she pretended to. She may have been a good actress but she was not a loving mother like many believed her to be. Many believed her to be a wonderful mother. They said that she was caring and beautiful. Nothing could be wrong with her. They were wrong, so very wrong. My mother was the worst mother a person could ask for. She beat us, she cursed us, she even used ancient torture curses on us. She was by no means a good mother.

I never thought that my mother would ever kill someone close to her, but I guess our father wasn’t close to her after all. She killed him without hesitation, without even blinking an eye. She watched as he writhed in pain when she tortured him. And she watched still as his lungs pushed out black blood from the Black Lung Curse. She seemed to enjoy watching him suffer, and seemed to enjoy watching us scream and beg her to stop even more. Now that I look back on it, I believe that our cries and begging only egged her on. We didn’t make her want to stop. We made her want to continue, to hear our cries increased as he died slowly in our arms. It was as if she enjoyed killing people. She seemed to like the feeling of power you got as their life drained out of their body. (She told us that before she left the mansion that night.) And even though it was hard to watch, I’m glad I was there because now I know what she’s really like and I know how to torture her as she’s torturing me, if that time ever comes.

We’ll begin the story with what happened that night. I will give you an exclusive look at the night that changed my life. And when I’m done maybe you’ll understand why I hate my mother so much. Maybe when I’m done you will learn that life isn’t all rainbows and butterflies, it can be darker than the darkest night. In the end, whose side will you choose? Good or Evil? Ours or Hers? The memory of that night still brings a chill to my spine, and tears to my eyes. That night was the night that revealed the truth that had always been there but had somehow been pushed out of sight. We were all forced to admit to ourselves that our mother really was a cold-blooded killer and that she didn’t love us. We’d always wanted to believe that she’s loved us, but in the end we found that she cant love anyone. It all began on a stormy night on July 7th.