"Look what you made me do"
In which Nora is going to burst into flames someday
and she'll take a few down with her
COMPLETED
The Haunting of Bly Manor
Season One
☆ CHAPTER ZERO — PROLOGUE ☆ ❝ the tragic tale of Lenora Wingrave ❞
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
☆ ☾ ☆
Love can be many things.
Love can be disguised as shadows, as a touch, as music, as a tight grip, or even a simple thought. Love was ruthless and consuming, especially when you don't know what you're doing. Love is breathtaking, is endless and devastating. Love could be many things, that's why Lenora's version of love was disguised for something else. Little Lenora never realized that love stories were also ghosts stories.
The tale of Lenora Wingrave was a tragic one. This story is as much hers as the rest of the family, she was the one who started the fire, after all.
Lenora, or Nora, as she preferred, had been born and raised in the Bly Manor. When she was conceived, her parents were beyond happy. Everything Lenora wanted, she got. She was surely a spoiled little girl, yet she didn't act like one. Lenora barely had tantrums, barely cried or even made a sound. Someone was always watching her because in the blink of an eye she would disappear, only to be found in one of the benches of the garden.
Mr and Mrs Wingrave never gave it too much thought. Lenora was the perfect daughter, she obeyed, listened, observed. She was kind-hearted, she wanted to please everyone, do whatever they said because she believed that would make them happy. Whatever she was told to do, she did. She was a very easily manipulated child, something that definitely came back to bite her in the end.
For a long time, Charlotte and Dominic thought they had gotten lucky. Their first child had been a success, she was golden, everything they dreamed of. But the parents forget that not everything that shines is always gold.
It started out slowly, like any other unpredictable tragedy. Lenora was always quiet, observant, but not shy at all. One thing that Nora loved were secrets, the kind that you take to the grave. Despite her young age, she had enough to fill up her entire casket if she was to drop dead.
At first nobody noticed, why would they question the intentions of the golden child? Things started to appear broken, but still in place. Things began to disappear only to be found in the same place they had been missing. At first nobody noticed, surely they had just misplaced it or forgot about it, there was nothing to worry about.
Then, the physical part started. Charlotte began to see bruises and scratches grow in her daughter's perfect skin. She was confused, Nora was the only child whenever they were at the Manor, who could have done this to her?
Little by little, they started to wonder if their golden child was really golden.
Screams would fill the rooms almost every night. They would find Nora screaming bloody murder, her perfectly brushed hair in a tangled mess, her silky skin wet and red. They would find her rocking herself, mumbling under her breath. That was not their golden child, this was someone else.
Nora changed. No one knew why, or what was the cause. They only knew that at such an early stage of her life, their little golden flower had wither.
Despite the dramatic changes in their daughter, they still treated her the same. They would kiss her goodnight, only to come back for the room once again to scare the nightmares away. They would have her everything she wanted, only for her to zoom out and forget she had it. She was their golden child, their gone child.
Desperate, they thought school would be a good idea. Perhaps Nora just needed a friend of her age, someone who she wanted to be with. They let her out in the world with only one idea lingering in their head, crossing their fingers and wishing for the best.
That was their first mistake.
Week after week, notes from teachers were attached to Nora's comic book lunch box, all saying the same. It was complicated, as Nora's teacher described it. Nora would answer questions, correctly in fact, even though the teacher had caught her distracted. She would sit alone in the benches, her eyes lost in the trees around her. Stuff from other students began to appear broken and hanging from their tables at the end of the day.
Then again, the physical part started. Her classmates would make fun of her, send her looks, whisper, point, laugh at her. It came to a point where even quiet and little Lenora had enough. It was a cycle no one recognized.
On one of the last days, one of the girls who was always making fun of her blocked her path to the lunch area. Nora was holding her lunchbox, looking at the ground as always until the girl didn't let her walk further.
The golden child couldn't quite remember what had happened. The last thing she remembered was that her lunchbox was taken away from her, and then, the girl was rolling down the stairs, followed by a cry that filled the hallways of the school endlessly.
Lenora was one of the sweetest girls you could ever met, she was in many ways part of the happiness wishing the Manor just like her siblings. She was a kind and special young woman, but she was always very peculiar and strange.
From that on, her parents decided that she was going to see a therapist, surely there was someone out there that could help them. They tried many people, but in the end, no one held the wanted answers. They looked and looked until there was not a place to be swept. Until they found one.
Her parents took her off school and looked for an au pair. Someone who would teach their child all the necessary stuff, a companion. But many tried, but in the end, they all found Lenora strange, and no amount of money could make them stay. They almost lost hope, until they found one.
With her parents busy schedule, Lenora was under the careful watch of her therapist and au pair. The two acted in many ways as her second parents, they had grown so close to little Lenora that they had forgotten they were only there for a job, it had become much more. They wanted to protect the golden child, and that is what they did until the end of their days.
Lenora never complained, never talked back, never asked why. She obeyed and smiled when she was given that look, she had to. Her smile made them happy, so that's what she was going to do.
As Nora grew older, her state worsened, although it was harder to see. When people grow older, they learn to be quieter and hide. Lenora always liked secrets.
In the town of Bly, they whispered the name of Lenora. They said her mind was plagued with demons, nightmares and ghosts that came back for her every night. They said she was damned, they said she was haunted. Perhaps she was.
Lenora tried everything she could to stay sane. She really did. But in the end, we don't always get what we want. She just wanted to make everyone happy and forgot about herself.
Love was many things. It disguises itself depending on what we want to see. Sometimes, we were just blind and couldn't see the difference between what love really was and its disguise. Love was shadows, a toughen grip, a noose around your neck, a gentle touch, a song, even a look or a smile.
The tale of Lenora Wingrave was a tragic one, yet one of the best ones I know. She had been born a flower, only to grow out to be a wolf.
No one really knew who Lenora was, not even herself. People tried to guess what had been wrong with her many years after, but no one had a concrete answer.
Was she really haunted? Who knows. Maybe she was, or maybe she was just a little mad.
