"You will do it for your fathers sake, do you understand?" My mother said, dryly.
We were in a dark room full of dark people. The Dark Lord stood in between me and my mother, smiling widely.
I looked at him, looked at my mother. I tried to beg without begging, begging through my eyes. Pleading her that I didn't want this.
I didn't want to be like her, I didn't want to kill innocent people for their blood-type. Or for fun. I didn't want my brother and James to hate me.
My ears were ringing, there was a buzzing sound. My chest felt as if it was being trodden on. Someone was kicking my heart.
That's when I felt it. It burnt. Not like fire and skin, but like Ice and skin. It was cold. I screamed. I begged.
I could feel the unwanted power travel through my veins. It hurt my head, it hurt all my nerves.
I was now marked for life, with something I wasn't and couldn't be. I had the dark mark. I prayed to the dark lord.
I was a death eater.
