Obliviate

Belle

"OBLIVIATE"

He spoke that dreadful encantation.. and just like that, all of Isabelle's memories of him were gone.

The way his hand felt in hers, the warm feeling in the pit of her stomach when their lips touched for the first time, erased from her memory forever - but not from his.

No. He'll never forget her. Despite his age he knew now that he loved her, and he knew he'd find her again one day. When he was older, wiser and perhaps understood the twang in his chest now he knew whatever they had was gone..

I awoke to the bright September sun beating down on my face, through a crack in the curtains. He smiled wide at me, which I returned with a distasteful scowl.

I rolled over to the other side of the bed with an exaggerated sigh, savouring the last fleeting moments in my own mini heaven for the next coming weeks.

This was nothing like one of those coming-of-age movies I'd watched, in actuality it felt quite dreadful.

Being that I was barely 5'2, the queen-sized bed swallowed me up. My bed was by far the focal point of my room, hand-carved from wood and stained a pearlescent ivory colour, pillows and blankets scattered to fill the extra space in every shade of pink imaginable. Only the best for Daddy's little angel.

Once you exited the palace my bedroom bestowed, it almost felt as though you'd been transported to a different dimension. The rest of our.. living quarters, I say that as I feel a space must be actually lived in to be described as a home, was gothic.

Dull, dreary, sad looking.. expensive, but incredibly mundane. My Father's interior architecture wasn't particularly to my taste. However any guests we had, which were few and far between, found the establishment rather exquisite.

"Isabelle, darling" I heard the unmistakable racket of my Father's voice, echoing through my bedroom as he opened the heavy wooden door, completely unannounced. He had a habit of doing such things.

I seized the opportunity to roll my eyes in annoyance, as my back was still facing him. "Good morning Father" I replied with a smile, rolling back to my original position, face to face with him.

I was an expert at forcing smiles by now, after years of my Father telling me my beautiful face was wasted on a girl that never smiled. I didn't have much to smile about.

"Come on now, you'll be late you don't want to be running for the train on your first day. No one will want to be your friend" I laughed at my Father's comment, although I knew he were very much serious.

It wasn't common occurrence for my Father to crack a joke. He seemed more nervous than I, for my first day in my new school.

I'd begged to go to Hogwarts for as long as I could remember. Although when I tried to pin-point the time in which my obsession with attending came about, everything was a blur.

My Father described me as having a clouded brain, I thought it rather likely that my prefrontal cortex had failed to develop properly due to lack of human interaction.

I was admittedly awfully forgetful, clumsy, the list goes on; but my soft "oops" and "sorrys" made all my awkwardness seem somewhat cute, and not that awkward at all.. or at least that's what my Mother told me.

I considered myself a modern day Rapunzel, minus the evil Mother, and minus Prince Charming exhaustively trying to save me from my strict Father's confinement.

I mean it's not like I'm locked away in a tower with no way out. But I live in the middle of nowhere, and have no friends outside the confinement of Luvair Manor.