"Pain is the only thing telling her she's still alive"
The whole of the Wizarding World has heard of the myth who is Freya Astaroth. Nobody has ever seen her. Legend has it her father keeps he locked away because she is far too powerful to be kept...
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Astaroth Before Hogwarts
READING WAS LIKE AN ESCAPE from reality for me. When I pick up a book and start reading, I get so sucked into it that I forget any of my surroundings. My imagination takes over and I'm free to fantasize about whatever I want without worrying that people will judge me. It's like I can create a little world in my mind and imagine what the characters would look like and how they act.
There wasn't really much more for me to do in our house. I say house, it was a mansion. We had 8 acres of land to keep us busy. Except it wasn't really for my enjoyment, it was for my protection. My father liked to keep me hidden, he told me that people would use and exploit me, I knew I was different from other witches and wizards but he never told me how.
Now that I was 14, my father had to let me go to Hogwarts. He said they would keep me safe there, he must know someone. He was even going to allow me to come to some business meetings with him.
Since I could hold up wand, my father has been teaching my magic. He said if I learnt when I was young to control my magic then I would make a good witch. He used other methods to help me control my magic, some that I didn't particularly like.
One day when I was 11, I got so sick of been trapped in house, I completely lost my mind. I started arguing with my father, this never really ended well, so I didn't know why I thought it would this time. I had never been so angry, I could feel the anger coursing through my veins. I screamed allowing the pent up anger to radiate out. But to my surprise, all of the doors to the room flew open and the windows smashed imploding. Everything in the room gravitated off the floor hitting the ceiling, before crashing back down to the floor. During this, everything became a blur, all I could see was a thick black fog surrounding me. Once I came to my right mind the fog quickly dispersed and all that was left was a thrashed room and my windswept father.
On first glance, he looked frightened. I clenched my jaw before swallowing thickly in embarrassment. My fathers face suddenly shifted from frightened to anger. I stepped back uneasy not knowing how he would react. He took a deep steadying breathe before setting off towards me. His feet pounded against the tiled floor or the kitchen, while his face still held his anger. Without breaking a stride, he grabbed my by the hair and continued to drag me. I screamed begging him to let me go and frantically pleading for forgiveness. He replied by shouting something about how it was my fault that mother was dead and if he could replace we with her he would, no questions asked.
This honestly cut deep. He always told me that I was the apple of his eye and that he was blessed to have me. My father knew that I hated myself for been there reason my mother was dead, he always told me it wasn't and that she just had complications when she gave birth to me. I didn't know what to believe now.
He dragged me down into the old dungeons of the house and locked me down there for at least 3 days without any food or water. I tried to spell my way out of there but he had hexed it so that I couldn't escape. Once he eventually let me out, he treated me like nothing happened, we continued as normal.
