𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰ᴿᵉᵍᵘˡᵘˢ ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏ

ɪɪɪ. ꜱᴄᴀʀꜱ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʟᴀꜱᴛ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴅʏ

❝𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐠𝐨? 𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐩𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞?❞

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

I feel that it's strange how what hurts the most leaves no physical sign of it ever being there. No one else can see that it's happened to you, but you remember the pain you experienced while it happened to you.

It's like it's a ghost over our mind, the pain. Instead of leaving a scar there for you to remember, it haunts you even after it's passed, for the mind never forgets.

What they did to your mind, it will forever remember, even if you forget what it did to your body. Your mind will enliven and embolden the pain long after the scar on your body has faded, for the mind is restless and anxious. It shall loop the same scene of pain in front of you until it burns on your retinas, and makes you want to scream at it to stop.

And I, Regulus Black, was the one to feel it the most. 

Pain is funny in that manner. It shall forever change you, and the more you feel it, the more you differ from your old self.

It had done that to me. No matter how hard I racked my brain, I could not remember who I was before it changed me. It turned me inside out, made me find out the hard way what hurt actually feels like.

And no, I talk not of the pain that I felt when he pointed the tip of a stick of wood with infinite powers in it and uttered that one word to make me flail, scream and cry out.

I am talking about the pain that I felt when they fed poison-coated words to me, twisted my mind, and played with my emotions and feelings. It was all a game of words, a spider web of sentences and riddles that were impossible to decode.

They only led to your mind spinning and replaying it over and over again till you felt like you could never live until you decoded it.

It was a topic I could forever mull and lament over, but I had not that time. I had long learned that it is better to let go of things you feel are hurting you.

As I broke out of my less than cheerful thoughts, I saw her on the Slytherin table as she walked in with her friends. Leora Greengrass, the betrothed of Avery.

I supposed he was lucky to be married to her. She was, after all, a very beautiful girl. She walked with a kind of experienced grace that I had never seen in anyone else. Her eyes seemed to sparkle with a hidden secret.

The sparkle that we had all been warned of, yet I supposed it hid in every one of our eyes. It was omnipresent, the glimmer of danger and lies that hid in the eyes of every single pureblood, regardless of their age.

It was there in my eyes too, the sign of breakage. I knew that the glimmer was in fact a residue of the scars on our minds and the cracks in our souls. When they harmed our minds, it all became a secret that we hid under the folds of poker faces and cold glares.

Only the eyes told the truth of our damage, but many didn't know that.

She sat down, her eyes seeming distant as she was zoned out of the conversation that her friends were conducting.

I took her distraction as an opportunity to study her face. Wide-set and light green eyes. The color was so rich, I could get lost in it. It seemed to be endless, a type of never-ending I had never seen before.