Black truths - Prologue
My name is Helen Black. Black like the night sky. Black like all my time is.
I am twenty nine years old and somehow I can’t age at all. I had a husband, a daughter and a life, but now, I have nothing. Why?
Because I am dead. I say this so flippantly, even though I shouldn’t, but it’s my way of dealing with it. Death is a strange word to me, and it’s a strange feeling, you never think it’s real until it’s close or happening.
My death came so softly to me, and I knew it was coming all the time, and never told anyone. Well, anyone that could speak.
I told Andora, the week before it happened, that mummy was going to go away for some time and I told her I was always proud of her. I told her to take care of her father, who heaven knows how, was going to clean and cook without me, and that we both loved her. She looked at me when I started crying, and gave me an expression which almost made me believe she had understood every word. She was only two months old. And then I left, ready for my other life.
I am living in the ‘in-between’, the constant space where time does not reach, but where I can watch everything I like. Living is a bit of a strange term, I probably should say existing to be correct. I can embody a space, or I can visit like an invisible body, as if under James’ cloak, you know the one.
Well actually you wouldn’t know. James is my husband’s best friend, who is married to my best friend. I don’t mean that my husband is married to my best friend, I meant, well, never mind. I don’t know how anyone could imagine Sirius and Lily together, because, well, we all know how that worked out.
I miss them all. Sirius especially. When I died, he died with me. He just wanders round, and clutches to Andora, who never cries anymore, she just watches and observes. Andora is our baby. I miss her so much, and I always stand by her bed watching and talking to her, and sometimes I like to think she can see me. I tell Sirius to watch her, but he just stares at her, expecting her to turn into me.
He talks to me sometimes. By sometimes I mean a lot. It’s strange because I know he can’t see me, but he can feel I’m there, watching, an ever constant presence ruining his chance to have a normal life.
I feel incredibly selfish, as I can hold and touch him, and talk to him, and hear him. He can’t hear me, touch me, or talk to me properly. He can’t even see me. Occasionally he sees my reflection in a piece of china, or hears my voice bubble as the tap runs, but I can’t do it too often.
He asks me to talk to him, give a sign to show I still know he’s there. He wants me to ruin his life, his sanity, but I can’t, it’s not right. He screams in his sleep, screams out for me, for my life, and he keeps repeating the same line “It’s not fair, why not me?”
And then there’s Lily. My best friend Lily, who cries every night about my death. I tell her to stop, she shouldn’t waste so much time over me, but she doesn’t know I’m there, stroking her hair, and holding her hand.
She’s pregnant now too, so she cries less and less, and thinks more and more about the baby. I was so happy when I found out, I made my image imprint on every shiny surface in the room. That was awful, every night after that for a month she sat in her room watching all the surfaces, asking me to come back, and biting her lip every time the window rattled.
James just watches her, confused and lost, looking hurt at how upset she is. James misses me too, he misses how I made everyone feel. He misses the noise I used to bring and the laughter too. And now, I bring heartache and sorrow. I want him to hate me for it, but kind James just misses me even more.
I know I should stop going and looking at them, but I can’t.
And I try, Merlin knows, I try. But every time I do try, I stop. I stop because I’m selfish, and because some part of me still believes that I’m alive. I suppose you could say I’m in denial. But the worst part about it is, I’m in denial about being in denial. I keep saying just one more hug, one more look, and I’ll be fine, it’ll be over, and I’ll stop. But I never do.
I shouldn’t disturb the living, Cerberus says it can drive them mad and not let them move on. But if they move on, I have to too, and that’s terrifying. Moving on is without any of them, being on my own. Moving on.
I want them to move on. I desperately do. I shouldn’t watch them all, but I can’t help it, it pulls on me, and I feel I need to watch to keep myself breathing. Even though I’m not.
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A/N : This is a prologue for a new marauder era story that will follow the lives of Helen and Sirius Black. It gets slightly AU towards the end of the story, as you will see if you stick with it. Thanks for reading!
Lily Rose