Suffer to Live

Suffer to Live

by Rynye

Suddenly, the Dursleys don´t look too bad.

            Her bedroom walls were white and plain, stripped of any decoration. She used to have posters when she was young, bright splashes of color to cover the ugly cracks that ran along the plaster. Her bed was made, the sheets without wrinkles, itchy gray blanket folded neatly at the foot. She used to have a down comforter, soft and pink, to wrap around her in the cold. A plain desk lamp illuminated her small, empty desk, on which sat the only book she was ever allowed to read. She used to have books with pictures and stories of magic and fantasy.

            She sat at the desk, feet curled under the seat, crossed at the ankle. In one hand rested her tired head as she stared blankly at the large book from behind scratched glasses. Its words blurred as she tried desperately to stay awake, not wanting to face the consequences if she fell asleep when she was supposed to be studying. Taking off her glasses, she rubbed the heels of her hands into her eyes, trying to rub the weariness away as she stared once again at the passage that she was forced to read everyday. The passage that was written on her wall in red paint.

            "Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live."

            That, save the large golden crucifix that hung above her bed, was the only adornment in her small, plain room. Her blank eyes trailed over the words again, and she winced at the memory of the pain in her back. If she closed her eyes, she could still feel the stick as it struck her back. A scar for every Hail Mary she´d forgotten to say.

            A car pulled into the driveway, and the peace of the house was disturbed by the sound of a slamming door. Quickly she put her glasses back and flipped a few pages ahead in her Bible as the voices downstairs grew clear.

            Her father was yelling, something about the Devil, and her mother was sobbing. Her breathing began to come faster, but she forced herself to calm down, biting her lip hard. The pain distracted her from the sound of footsteps approaching her room.

            She couldn´t help but cry out as she was dragged from her chair roughly, her father´s hands leaving finger-shaped bruises on her upper arms. Soon she found herself in the bathroom. Seeing her mother kneeling next to the filled tub, tears running down her face, she reminded herself not to cry, so she wouldn´t inhale water again.

            "I´ll baptize the sin out of you yet, girl!"

            As she took a deep breath, pushed violently under the water, she knew:

            Another letter had come from Hogwarts.