BAD INTENTION - [D.M.]

Prolouge

Selah's POV
Boston - August 1996

I look at my father. He sits tied up on the couch. My wrists ache from the rope around them. The chair I am sitting on hurts my back, but the picture in front of me hurts me more. I keep staring left at my father. He doesn't glance at me. He watches every second of the murder of his wife. I want to scream. I want to help her. I want to get out of here. But I can't. We just sit here witnessing the cruel murder of my mother. I think she is dead by now. I can't imagine that she survived the cut on her throat. The person who tortures her first used the cruciatus curse on her and then hung her up by the hands. She couldn't breathe. She just gasped for help. The black-dressed man finishes his work with the deadly curse. "Avada Kedavra," he mumbles. I look back at the dead body of my mother hanging from the ceiling in our living room. The man turns to my father, "That's what you deserve for bringing him to Azkaban." He turns once again to his work and smirks proudly at me as he leaves. I feel the tears streaming down my face. I can't breathe, my mouth is stuffed with our kitchen towel. My father sits there frozen. I try to mumble his name. I believe he doesn't hear me because he doesn't react. I follow his gaze. He stares at the huge wet blood stain on the white rug.