I think that the last time I saw the sun, it disappeared behind a cloud. It's morbid and sad, but my life has been like that so far. My uncle calls me freak and bitch, and my aunt does nothing except act like I'm scum on her shoe. Don't even get me started with my cousin. He's rude, obnoxious and hits me without reason, then runs to his mummy crying claiming that I hurt him. Pffft. Yeah right.
My name is Kiare Potter, I live with my uncle Vernon, aunt Petunia, and cousin Dudley. They hate me, and I hate them. Like I said, last time I saw the sun, it disappeared, like it didn't want to see my face…that was when I was nine years old. By that time, uncle Vernon had decided that he didn't want to see me, and that I wasn't aloud to be seen by anyone else, so he locked me up in the basement. I've lived here for at least a year now, I'm ten and a half. Aunt Petunia brings me food three times a day, she doesn't dare come in, but allows for a cat flap in the door of the basement to be our means of getting things across, such as laundry, food and anything else I might need, if I'm lucky.
You must be wondering why they locked me up, why a ten year old is living in the basement of her guardians house. That would be because they believe me to be a freak. I suppose it could be true, I do act older than my age, and I'm certainly smarter than most kids. I look weird too, I'm really pale, from the lack of sun, and my hairs black…sometimes. When I feel strong emotions, my hair likes to reflect that, with different colours. First time it happened I was locked up in the cupboard under the stairs for a week. My eyes are pretty normal, but they're bright green, and I have a scar slashed along my right cheek from my first beating from Vernon. The biggest reason that I'm weird though, is because I talk to…spirits, ghost, spectres, whatever you call them. They are the souls of the dead who haven't yet found peace with the idea that they are dead. Some of them are pretty gruesome, others are just the nicest people…ghosts you'll ever meet. Either they find me or I find them accidently. I don't really do anything special, usually I just talk to them, they thank me and then they move to the after life. Weird huh?
So here I am. In the basement. I guess I'm glad that my family doesn't come in here, I've really made the best of it as I can, they kinda forgot to clear out the basement, so I've been able to create a mini suite, out of left overs from the dursleys. It's actually a pretty good life, I don't mind it too much, it's better than having Vernon always knocking on my door. My only regret is that because they have literally made me disappear, I'm forbidden from going to school. There are abandoned books in my room though, mostly old college stuff, from Vernon's "younger" days I suppose, so I teach myself.
"You know, I really don't like having stuff thrown through me at all times," I smirked and turned around, the soft voice of my mentor coming from behind my bed. A translucent figure, with dull colours imitating the colours of life in death drifted through my bed and came to a stop in front of me. "It tickles"
"And yet, you seem insistent on walking through everything on your own, without anyone throwing it at you at all." I told her. Maria Ludwig, she was of german descent and she died in world war one at the age of 25 years old. She was the only ghost that never left when I gave them peace of mind and spirit, she claimed that she wanted to help me, to be a mentor for my hopefully long life, so I could help others. She's the only mother figure I've ever known, and she's dead. Sucks huh?
Maria has helped explain most of the issues of my strangness, she told me that I could she spirits, even though they chose not to be seen, because I am in tune with my spiritual side, and that I accepted it. Maria told me that most kids can see ghosts, but by the tender age of 3 they lose that ability, because they reject it subconsciously, I haven't. She's also told me that my hair changes color because I have a special ability called Metamorphagism, which isn't very common at all, but even then only found in magical beings. That's right magic. Maria was a witch, and she thinks that I may be one too.
"Liebling, so you will receive several letters, from different schools of magic, I have taught you the basic theory of all I know, but it is your choice if you wish to continue with the art." Maria smiled as she sat on the bed. "please remember, that your choice will not affect my love for you"
"I know mama" I sighed, sitting down next to her. "I want to receive education in the art, but I do not wish to be used, which from what you've told me of the outside world, will likely happen."
I'm talking about the fact that long ago, my parents were murdered by Voldemort, and when he turned his wand on me, the spell rebounded, and caused the disappearance of the Dark lord. It's because of this that the wizarding world insists that I am some icon of justice and good. Honestly let's roll our eyes at the irony of the situation, I'm living in a basement, with no money, clothes of my own and I'm only aloud to have one shower every 4 days! If I were that important to them, someone would have checked up on me somehow…Don't you think??