tw: swearing i guess? also kind of depression
Sometimes she feels like the world is against her. Like she's made to be broken. To be crumbled and chucked into a garbage bin and thrown onto the road and then run over. She's a fucking mess and what has the world come to because there is a fucking war about blood and god when did this turn into America and Lily is pretty sure that they got rid of this shit a couple of years ago.
Some days she can barely drag herself out of bed. Some days she can do nothing more than sit by their window and gaze out and worry about Marly and Mary and Ainee and Alice and Frank and Peter and Remus and every fucking other person. The other day she spent an hour worrying over Petunia. And not even something reasonable. Just worrying if she could pick the right shoes to go with her skirt/ jacket secretary combination.
The Order is the only thing that's keeping her alive, she's pretty sure. That and James. Her sweet and wonderful James who can tell her shh shh shh it's okay Lily you're beautiful you're perfect you don't need to worry shh shh shh well get out of this, all of us. Marly and Mary and Sirius and every other fucking person in their lives. And when she's deep under the covers in their bed, long after the sun has set and long after she has time to think and be and feel, she thinks of her childhood friend, the little boy with unkept dark hair that was slicked down and overgrown clothes and limbs that didn't fit and were too pale.
But then she has to remind herself that the girl who swung on swings in the playground and danced to her mothers radio in the kitchen with her sister and played with flowers has been killed and mourned. In her place is a killer. A girl - a woman - who has loved and lost and cried.
She's lost almost everything of her old life. First year Lily with her stupid pigtails and ribbons is gone, the girl who wanted to become an auror has perished ('fucking hell James! The Ministry just isn't hiring muggleborns okay?'), the girl who walked into Hogwarts with her best friend by her side has flung herself over a cliff and the girl who played dolls and weddings and house with her sister is long since done. Her parents crashed in some car accident on the highway, and the funeral was filled with more tears and yelling and punching and anger towards blood relatives than a proper funeral should.
The last few times she's been out have been all too hard. Diagon Alley is a fucking mess, with people scrambling and trying to put their feet on the ground. Places are going out of business. A fifth year Ravenclaw who she fucking tutored had pointed her out and exclaimed 'that's the mudblood head girl!' and his mother had ushered his younger siblings away.
When she went to the apothecary, she had to provide her name and blood status to order ingredients. She told him James' name obviously, and mentioned Marlene and Sirius (because she will drop names if it helps change the world for the better - also she ordered ingredients for the secound year muggleborn behind her. she was going to take advantage of the fact). The whole thing wants to make her scream.
She didn't fucking ask for this. She didn't. When she was younger, before Snape, before all of this she wanted to become a teacher. Or a doctor. People thought she was crazy (Lily, good girls don't do that!) but she had stuck to that. And then everything was turned around because of some fucking thing about her life which she didn't understand. It just wasn't her fault. But then everything changed and now she was fucking blamed for the whole thing.
She wants to go around and set fire to all the assholes homes, lighting their houses with her lighter and scream 'its a fucking muggle invention! Does it work? Is it lesser than your magic?' or drag out her daddy's rifle (which still sits in her room, under her pillow, just in case) and shoot them and scream and scream as they die, and show them hey you bleed - just like muggles. but she doesn't and she wont, and she knows that they're less than her simply because they think themselves inferior, but she still wants to prove them wrong with this childlike thirst. But she keeps quiet and says nothing although she knows that if this were another world, another time, she'd spend her life writing papers about magic and the outcome and why it's present in certain people and hat happens and just prove them wrong.
But it's not, so she curls up to James and nudges him and looks at him through hooded eyes and he kisses her and her moans come put as full of pleasure, but really they're just another fucking lie she's telling the world, telling herself.
well tell me what you think? please?