21, July, 1977
How do I loathe my sister, let me count the ways. How perfect that I should speak of Shakespeare when indeed he is part of the reason for our continuous arguing. When I say reason I do not mean "why" we are bitter, but I am speaking of the foundation of it. My hatred for her and her kind has stemmed for many years now. Your probably wondering why I have not documented all of this all of these years. Alas I do not know. Perhaps it is simply that I could not find this diary all these past years. (Not my fault the freak put it in storage thinking it was hers.) Or even maybe deep down in my subconscious I know that relishing my emotions would never fully be a wise move. So I suppose I shall follow the old adage of waste not want not, here and finally fill in the blank pages.
Mum had hoped on bated breath that by giving this diary to me perhaps then I would be willing to realize my "feelings" about my freak of a sister. I do know that mother and father are tiring very much of our constant arguing, but alas something's will never change. I have a sneaky feeling that when we are older ourselves we will be distant and only communicate when forced to. So sad that two sisters must be torn apart because of that thing she is involved in.
I myself, Petunia, Marisole, Evans still ponder to this day why she was so adamant to go to that freak school. I my self would never have ever wished to subdue my life into that folly and foolishness. Indeed the many years of pent up emotions on my part should not even fill that wicked Library of hers that she so mentions. Lily in a Library, don't make me laugh. The only reason that she would be confined in a Library is if some Hot Freak she liked was hanging out there and she wanted to flirt with him.
Jealous you say? I think not! Why would I be jealous of that freak?! I have accomplished more in my young life than she will ever. Not only do I have a wonderful upbringing, but I have the most charming, compassionate, and proper boyfriend that any girl could ask for. I really am one of the luckiest girls in the world. Not to mention the simple fact that I do not need to wave a stick to achieve my needs. I simply attain them. I have class, charisma, and natural charm. (unlike some I know.) I can easily attain the things in my life with all of these capabilities.
Oh Vernon! I take one break and all my brain thinks is him. Oh how my heart aches and pines for him everyday we are apart. Vernon, Vernon where fore art thou Vernon? Deny my father and refuse my name, and I shall be an Evans no more. Yes okay, it may not be Shakespeare but this is how my heart feels. He is my Romeo and I am his Juliet. Of course in my story this love shall outlast all others, even death.
Of course you may be wondering where indeed she is in my life. Stirring a cauldron and singing double, double toil and trouble, no doubt. What she is a witch after all. All I know is that no matter what happens in life I shall be better than the Freak. I did not abandon my family and run off to the silly school to learn magic. No! I stayed here and finished my proper education as a normal girl, and shall one day embark on what every young woman one day does.
Alas I can feel my hand start to cramp, and as I look up at the clock in my room my heart starts to sink. It is now nearing six o'clock, and sadly within the hour she will be back home now, and all finished with her freak stuff. Oh great back to the way things were I suppose. Yay! I am so happy right now. I don't think so. Happy, ha! Don't make me laugh. I suppose then I should continue and maybe just maybe I can at least speak of some of my underlining issues here. Hmm, lets see where my wonderful memories take me back to now.
Sadly my memory takes me back to what I suppose could be construed as "the beginning of the end." Traitor. Alas lets see, ah yes this story. One of my most memorable moments in my life I assure you.
Most of the details are indeed quite fuzzy as now time as passed. Though what I remember are the parts that sadly will be stuck into my mind forever. It was my Seventh birthday and I was sitting on the couch relaxing after just opening my many presents. I started to pick up my book of Romeo and Juliet when it happened. The little freak ran straight to me and proceeded to motion with her arms while yelling "Tuny!" I backed up into the couch and grabbed my book to my chest. That is when it all went wrong. The little freak got mad that I would not share my book with her and as she backed a few feet away from me it happened. She stared at the book in my hands for not a few moments and then Swoosh it went into her hands, and off she went with it.
That was the beginning moment of our forever feud. That night I cried myself to sleep for maybe the second time in my life. I could not understand why my parents doted on the little freak. Why did they praise her for her mishaps? Was I not as special to them anymore? I am sure that my special ness had not ceased but it seemed that my parents were by some crazy chance proud of her. Suffice it to say I strayed even farther away from the freak as possible as I could after that.
Believe me that many of my later memories are as equal to that one of my birthday. I do not wish to speak of them at the moment but perhaps, maybe sometime. I would love to tell you more but sadly I believe this session has come to an end. I know the sound of our car, and am sure that the footsteps are theirs. I really don't want to go, for it has been very nice to have someone that can't speak back. (no offense) I can faintly hear the key in the door and now we must part. I am so sorry diary, for I must go. The freak is home for her final time and sure enough the parents will want me on my best behavior. Well this is it, goodbye diary, for now. Thank you for not being of the freak nature and allowing me to speak my thoughts.
In conclusion I shall end with this. Though I may be of freak blood, I am not by any means anything like her. I Petunia Marisole Evans swear that as God is my witness from this day forward I have no sister, and in shall no way partake in anything that she may require. Indeed my dream has come true and I am but an only child again. Adieu my friend, adieu.