hiddenlotus

Its so quite.....


....is everyone okay?


....

I am very thankful that Mister and Madame Lestrange are allowing me to begin working again. I am grateful that they are allowing me to begin reforming my previous ways and I am hopeful that this will later lead to a flawless reentry into society.

I know now that I was wrong, that I was not raised to live up to my pureblood ancestry and hopefully, with help, I can better learn my place in society. I can only believe that one day all others like me will see the error in their ways to one day be reformed. One day I hope that my sister will see that we were raised on false principles, ones that do not hold true. Until that day I am afraid that I can no longer consider you my twin.

I am excited to begin working with Madame Lestrange at the Ministry on Monday. If only I knew what I were doing.

Of all the things that have been taken away, I think I miss music the most.

Please. PLEASE JUST STOP.

I thought you were supposed to be protecting us? The people who cant protect themselves, the innocent. All you are doing right now is making things worse!

You might not be the one killing people, but their blood is on your hands too. You could have stopped all of this.

You are no better than them, only there is no one trying to save us from  you.

[Ooc- The writing is shaky, tears are litteraly covering the page]

Attention Order of the Phoenix--

I...I am speaking on behalf of Mrs. Bellatrix Lestrange. She wishes me to tell you that though I have been unharmed in the months that I have been living here, I will not remain so. If you do not return Severus Snape back to his school, she will torture me everyday until action is taken.

Mrs. Lestrange will start torturing me within twenty minutes lasting for approximately 30 minutes. Everyday it will increase exponentially.

I...

Please do what she says, I don't want to die here. Just give him back! Please.

I'm going to be sick

Do you all not learn? The more negatively you react to her the more pleased she will be to come after you, or your family. You people are pouring gasoline on the fire. JUST SHUT UP AND SHE'LL STOP!

My heart goes out to those who have recently lost loved ones.

A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on a branch of a tree.
"That's for me, as I am a Fox," said Master Reynard, and he walked up to the foot of the tree.
"Good day, Mistress Crow," he cried. "How well you are looking today: how glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds."
The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up by Master Fox.
"That will do," said he. "That was all I wanted. In exchange for your cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future: Do not trust flatterers."


Well, I'm still alive.



I want to go home.

The days blend together, I hardly notice that my birthday passed.

I'm sorry, Twin, for not wishing you a happy birthday. Do not worry, Mr and Mrs Lestrange are treating me well.

Parvati! Are you ok? I... just please be ok.

MY SISTER DIDN'T DO IT! SHE WOULDN'T HURT A SOUL!

Sorry, Ink spill....

Winkin', Blinkin', and Nod, one night sailed off in a wooden shoe;
Sailed on a river of crystal light into a sea of dew.
"Where are you going and what do you wish?" the old moon asked the three.
"We've come to fish for the herring fish that live in this beautiful sea.
Nets of silver and gold have we," said Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod.

The old moon laughed and sang a song as they rocked in the wooden shoe.
And the wind that sped them all night long ruffled the waves of dew.
Now the little stars are the herring fish that live in that beautiful sea;
"Cast your nets wherever you wish never afraid are we!"
So cried the stars to the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod.

So all night long their nets they threw to the stars in the twinkling foam.
'Til down from the skies came the wooden shoe bringing the fishermen home.
'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed as if it could not be.
Some folks say 'twas a dream they dreamed of sailing that misty sea.
But I shall name you the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod.

Now Winkin' and Blinkin' are two little eyes and Nod is a little head.
And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies is a wee ones trundle bed.
So close your eyes while mother sings of wonderful sights that be.
And you shall see those beautiful things as you sail on the misty sea
Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three - Winkin', Blinkin' and Nod.

Eugene Field


The stars are beautiful tonight.

[Tear stains scattered across the page]

I am pleased that Mrs. Lestrange has seen fit to allow me to begin my rehabilitation process within her home.

Parvati, I'm scared.

A water bearer in India had two large pots, one hung on each end of a pole which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, and while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the master's house. The cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water in his master's house. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.

After two years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, and I want to apologize to you."

“Why?" asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"

"I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master's house. Because of my flaws, you have to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your efforts," the pot said.

The water bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion he said, "As we return to the master's house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path." Indeed, as they went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again it apologized to the bearer for its failure.

The bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that there were flowers only on your side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, and I took advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my master's table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have this beauty to grace his house."


I am feeling hopeful today, despite the clinging chill.

I no longer wish to sleep, to sleep is to dream and to dream in this place is living your worst nightmare over and over and over each time you close your eyes. However, being awake is also troublesome. Reality is just as bad as fiction sometimes... or worse because you can't change reality.

If I get a visit from another dementor I may lose it.

I don't deserve this. I am pureblooded and have been--and continue to be--loyal to the ministry. I hardly find it fair that after all that I've done in my life, teaching your children even, and I get rewarded with a trip to Azkaban. Someone as unthreatening as I am was thrown in here to rot because some harsh words caused my damnation. Obviously, because I was upset about what was happening, I am a conspirator. A "conspirator" from a family comprised of "terrorists". This is getting ridiculous.

I am not a threat. I just want to go home. I just want to go back to the job I loved. I just want to see my family again I just want to pretend I was never here.

This place is dark... and filthy. It makes me sick. Is that blood?

Let me tell you a story. A long time ago in ancient India, a festival was held in the city of Varanasi. It was to be a grand occasion with singing and dancing and all kinds of food and entertainment. While the festival was in progress, the king of Varanasi issued strict instructions that the gardener should take good care of his beautiful garden. The gardener knew that the king was very proud of his garden but when the festival music sounded, and the people started to flock in the streets, the gardener could not bear to miss out.

A tribe of monkeys lived in the garden and the gardener started thinking, `If I can get the monkeys to do the watering for me, I can go and enjoy myself too.' He presented himself respectfully to the king of the monkeys, offering his majesty and his subjects fruit and young shoots to eat. Then he asked, `Would you please do me a favour and water the plants in the garden while I'm away?' `We would be delighted,' said the monkey king. `Make sure you do,' said the gardener, giving the monkeys the water-skins and watering-pots to do the work with. Then off he went. The monkeys quickly set to work.

`We should be careful not to waste the water,' observed their king. `Before you water, first pull up each plant and look at the size of its roots. Give plenty of water to the ones with deep roots and only a little to those with tiny roots.' The monkeys obediently did what they were told. Besides, they were having a lovely time playing with the water, and pulling up the plants added to their fun.

A wise man came by and saw what was happening. He asked them why they pulled up plant after plant and watered them according to the size of the roots. `Because these are our king's commands,' answered the monkeys cheerily. The wise man pointed out to the monkeys that they had killed all the plants, and went on his way. The monkeys were shocked. They decided to follow the wise man, leaving the monkey king alone in the ruined garden, feeling very foolish indeed.

England is like the ruined garden.

I want to go home

( And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be. For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see, there will be an answer. let it be. )