A/N: Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long to post another story but my muse took a very long holiday. See if you can spot a line from The Tudors. Here's a Hint: Jane Seymour said it. I hope you enjoy it and please review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Unfortunately those right belong to J.K Rowling.
My name is Lily Evans and I am beautiful.
Dark Red Hair. Emerald Green Eyes. Not-Too-Pale Skin. Button Nose. Tall. Slender. Intelligent. Friendly. Passionate.
I am beautiful inside and out. I know this. I don't need make-up to look beautiful. I've always been the beautiful sister. People have always said 'Your daughter has such pretty green eyes!' and 'Your little girl is so adorable!' Petunia was always overlooked. She didn't mind.
Until we found out I was a witch.
She said my beauty wasn't natural. She said it was because I was a freak. I didn't let myself believe it.
My name is Lily Evans and I am broken.
Summons. Headmaster's Office. Aurors. Grim Faces. Floo. Ministry. Foreboding. Corpses. Two. Disbelief. Dead. Orphan.
I am broken but I don't realize it just yet. I don't want to hear what happened. I don't want to see my sister. Red is such a nice colour. Especially against pale white. But I don't. I can't. I am broken, not suicidal, like everyone thinks. I am not so fragile that if you drop me, I'm going to break.
I just want to wake up from this nightmare.
Petunia wrote to me. She blames me. She said that if it wasn't for my freakishness, mum and dad would still be alive. She said that I am a freak. And I start to believe it.
My name is Lily Potter and I am beautifully broken.
Halloween. James. Harry. Laughter. Loud Crash. Door Bursts Open. Up The Stairs. Dull Thud. Voldemort. Pleading. Green Light. Gone.
I am beautiful inside and out. But I am broken too. It took James' friendship to understand that. It took James' love for me to accept that. I can see myself and how tragic I look. My poor boy. My poor child. I am leaving him in a thrice damned world on his own. I was going to always protect him.
Until tonight.
I can only watch from afar. The children at school call him a freak. They think that because he's different and usually so very sad. But he's not. He's just beautifully broken.
