(Fiji's P.O.V)

"Do you know what this is?" Chernabog asked while holding up a plant-type object . I stayed quiet, not wanting him to do it again. "Tell me!"

Um...banberry!" I answered. I could tell by the look on his face that I was wrong. His lips curled up into a villainous grin. He was gonna do it again.

"Wrong. Crucio!"  The pain was instant. This was definitely not the first time I was the subject of the Cruciatus curse. In fact, it was a daily occurrence. The death eaters also like to use muggle torture methods as well, like electrocution and cutting. But the Cruciatus curse was by far worse

He laughed at my screaming. Finally it was over.

"It's bloodroot. Get it right next time."

I has been with the death eaters  for twelve years. Now being fourteen, I was kidnapped at the age or two. I never was told the true story of what happened. The death eaters told me that one of them killed my parents, along with my unborn brother, but never said who. They have been teaching me ever since. They forced me  to learn to read and write as soon as they took me. Now, our "study sessions" were a daily occurrence. They mainly focused on the dark arts, but other subjects were necessary as well.

The death eaters(or what is left of them) reside in an abandoned mansion on top of a hill. The mansion was in the middle of nowhere, so my screams were never heard. The house goes all the way through the mountain. My room, if you could call it that, was in the dungeons. They fed me very little and forced me to exercise. I never understood why they bothered with me. What was so special about me? Why didn't they just kill me? Why force me to learn if they are never gonna do anything with me anyways? My questions are never answered. 

Chernabog stood up and left the dungeon without saying a word, as usual. I was now left alone with her thoughts. My mind slipped to an old memory of a day when i refused to practice and learn

"Now, read this."

He passed me a large book with scratched writing on the front. I was tired of listening to these people. I'd rather die than help them. Summoning the courage inside me, I refused.  What came next was terrible. Hot pain spread throughout my body. It felt as if hot knives were being stabbed at every inch of my body. My back felt like it was being pressed against a hot stove. And then it stopped. My vision was blurry but I could see someone leaning over me.

"Remember this the next time you decide to disobey." And then the pain was back, only somehow 100 times worse. I felt warm fluid on my hands and looks down to see that I had been cut all over my body. I could see someone else walking over to me with a cup of pale liquid in it. What came next was the worst pain I've ever felt. The person poured the liquid all over my cuts and I screamed. It only lasted a few minutes but it was long enough to last a lifetime. I blacked out. When I woke up everyone was gone. Someone had poorly mended my wounds and left me tied to a chair. The pain continued as I tried not to cry.

I cringed as I remembered how much it hurt. I never said no to them ever again.

I felt myself getting tired. I hated sleeping. At least when I was awake I could defend myself. But it has been 48 hours since I last slept so I decided that I would have to eventually. I laid down on the cold stone floor and tried to sleep. I thought about why I was in this situation. Why me? What had I done to deserve this pain? As I questioned myself I could feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier until I eventually drifted off into a not-so-peaceful sleep.

(A/N)
I know it's short but I'm working on longer chapters. I don't even know if anyone's gonna read this but if you do let me know what you think and give me any advice on the plot or the characters. It's an ongoing story so I'm basically writing as I go so if you want to see anything let me know. Well, bye:)