Her Transformation
Lily Evans is neither pretty nor ugly; smart nor stupid; popular nor geeky; she just is. And that's just the way she likes it. But, the summer coming into sixth year, she undergoes something that changes more than just her outer appearance… (Official summary)
A/N HOWDY! Its time once again for Corie to start another story! –Jumps for joy- I actually got this idea while shopping in American Eagle where I saw this emo/goth girl and so the description in later chapters is of her, FYI. Anyway, I'm on a major writer's block for RJ and CeS(this one is undergoing EXTENSIVE grammatical re-writes for both the English and the French parts) so those are on the back burner while this one will probably still go strong because I have one of my friends feeding me ideas (Teenie Wahine on here..go figure she likes this stuff! Well I know her better than most of you so don't look at me like that.). Also, I have 2 one-shots that I need to spell check really well, and then post, so those will be up by the end of the week…I hope.
NOTA BENE (Note Well in Latin)- I DO HAVE EXAMS THIS WEEK AND THE FOLLOWING. IF I DO NOT POST ANOTHER CHAPTER WITHIN THIS TIME PERIOD, I DO HAVE A 9-HR CAR RIDE TO KENTUCKY FOR THANKSGIVING AND WILL TYPE MORE THEN. IF YOU HARRASS ME TO UPDATE WHEN I HAVE CLEARLY STATED HERE THAT I WILL NOT BE ABLE TO, I WILL CHEERFULLY BEAT YOU TO DEATH.
Enjoy the story!
I was numb. Everything was numb. My mind failed to think.
The cold wind that should have made me shiver and draw my jacket closer was whipping around my frail body, yet I did not feel it. My hair was bunched and knotted from the gusts and blew into my eyes, and I didn't even have the energy or the motivation to reach up and move it away.
My eyes were zeroed in on the intricate letters carved on the slab of marble in front of me, Marie Evans, I read silently, beloved wife and mother. I clenched my fingers tightly and winced when I felt the cold metal sink into the soft skin of my palm.
I held my hand to my face, almost dropping the small dagger that I forgot I had been carrying with me in the process. The blood welled out of my hand and fell onto the cold, unforgiving ground in fat droplets.
It was then I started crying. The sobs wracked my entire body as screams tore through my lungs before being lost into the harsh wind. The tears pouring from my eyes made their slow descent down my face until finally rolling off my chin and falling down to the bleak ground.
I grasped a fistful of my hair that was such a bright red, it seemed almost surreal. My hair had always been my joy; it was so unique that I couldn't even begin to imagine myself with any other hair color. But now, it made me sick. It brought back memories of better days, the days I was trying so hard to forget. I brought the blade closer to the lock of hair I had been holding. I took in a deep breath, trying to calm the raging wild fire that was urging me to do more than just cut my hair. Oh so much more.
My hands were shaking, I noticed, as I moved the sharp weapon back and forth a few times. Suddenly, as if my hands were tired of waiting, the blades sliced across the smooth, silky hair with force. With the sense finality about it, the lock fell to the snow covered ground below my mother's gravestone, mixing in with the blood from my hand.
"So long, Mother," I whispered as I snatched another bundle of hair to cut. I didn't hesitate this time before cutting a jagged line through the rest so that the tattered ends of what was left fell softly to my shoulders.
When I was finished, the ground beneath me was a mass of red. The blood mixed with hair and snow looked as if a battle had just been fought. And both sides had lost.
Sorry its so short, but it IS a prologue after all!