The Black Sisters

fifty-seven

T.D: to anyone with eating disorders, abuse, and/or ptsd

also I messed up the chapter numbers that's why this one is 57 again (should I just repost all of them with the correct titles?) I completely forgot 51 ugh

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Weight on her head, one foot in front another, hair so tight it pulled her eyebrows tight. Her face was poured with makeup making her look like a doll. A tight skirt and a buttoned blouse. She felt silly, Dorea felt stupid. Books atop her head, as she walked the length of her hall, her mother critiquing everything she did.

Her Mother had put her on a 'diet' to strip of any 'unwanted' fat. Dorea never thought she looked bad, she didn't eat a ton and even if she did she never thought her mother would act like this. Her body was perfectly fine, meat and all. Her mother yelled at her to work out, and that's what she did as her mother watched.

Regulus didn't care what she looked like and even if he did she'd look like a ghost. She'd have no skin on her bones when her mother was done with her. She felt like a dolphin in a pool of perana's, them biting small bits of her flesh off each and every move she made.

Her face had already grown pale and her ribs showed more. Her mother wasn't just putting her on an unneeded diet, while she was growing her mother was one step away from starving her. One piece of fruit 2 times a day. It was better than nothing but she felt hungrier than she'd ever felt. Darling sat in the basement of her old house working for her stay as Dorea starved above her. The two were in a very similar prediciment.

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On the 4th week Dorea sat beside the window in the drawing room. She felt hopeless and lost, gazing at the sunny day outside she wasn't aloud to enjoy. She'd love to romanticize the glorious day with tall tales of adventure and fun. She'd run through the woods and jump over streams and roots soaking in the sun and the wind.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hair was tied tight and her face was covered in makeup, her clothes felt to tight and her skin felt to frail. She sighed, she was so pail.

She saw a rustling in the tightly knit tree's. Then she saw a man walk down the old dusty path, the one she'd always go down to visit that man. Newt walked toward the creaking prison she was confined to. He looked up agape as he walked. A creature she'd never seen trailed beside him. Long silky hair and a dog like face. it looked like a living ghost.

Newt walked up to the house and began peering through the windows, silly of him to do so. Because what he saw was empty room after empty room, he saw rooms covered in white linen covering the furniture to keep it clean. Many rooms were out of use and would remain that way for the time being.

He saw a few house elves walking casually down the halls and he began to wonder if it was still inhabited by the Blacks. He wondered why Dorea hadn't left the house and if she was alright, you could rarely get her inside and now she was only inside.

When he got down the line to the drawing room Dorea ducked behind the couch. He couldn't see her like this, all ghast and skinny. He'd call Dumbledore. She couldn't bother, she couldn't have anyone think of her more than they think of herself. She'd slipped into the shadows, she wished to remain that way.

He couldn't see how odd she'd gotten, the old fat she had on her cheeks had grown slim, her cheek bones were more prominent she didn't feel like herself anymore.

He looked through the window to see a casual sitting room, it had many book shelves and lounge chairs. Busted. Dorea was still there because Romeo and Juliet sat flipped open on the coffee table. He tapped on the window and her heart beat sped.