The Diawna Chronicles
Have you ever wished you could be good? Not just when you get caught doing something you oughtn't , but when you're too far gone in some scheme? Well, I haven't. And there is no point. If you are too far gone, then you are truly too far gone. There is no turning back. You are possessed of some mad frenzy that consumes you until there is nothing left,but perhaps a shard of your soul, your true essence. And then that is so twisted, so eaten up, that it is not truly your own.
Or perhaps it is.
My grandfather is a great man. But even though my mother, Dredorlis Amay Riddle, was his daughter, he killed her. His own daughter. I am afraid of what he may do to me. He had always liked Eliza better, until she learned what Muggles think. Then she was shunned. But somehow, deep in my heart, I know that he still likes Eliza best.
I have no idea why; we were much the same person until the Library incident. There was no difference in our features or our thoughts. We could tell what the other was thinking without breaking a sweat. But perhaps Eliza had a more effervescent air about her. She was always a little more elastic then me. I had always secretly disliked her; when my mother demonstrated her anger at my father, she hurt me. Not my sister. Many things seemed to happen that got me in trouble, not the culprit.
But she got in her share of scrapes, too. But mostly it was me. She was the twin in the spotlight. But Weavers changed all that…
Weaver's School of Magic was a school in America, mainly for the Dark Arts. The way of assigning rooms was a strange one; the smartest got to room alone, and with the biggest. Money depended, too. I quickly learned that status in the enviroment mattered, too. Whoever was the most popular with their fellow students would have a good chance. But the one with the most money and the smartest were usually the best liked. Coincidence? Perhaps not.
When I first met our teachers, I decided that I wouldn't like them. Not because they weren't good, but because they were charmed by Eliza. On the first day of school, people came up to me. "Hello, Eliza!" They'd say.
Never "Hello, Diawna!"
Thanks to my twin, nobody knew who I was. While I was up late at night, studying, I came up with the perfect plan for me to push Eliza off the stage and become the Prima Donna, myself.
The next morning I looked around the table I was to be seated at. I sat down at a seat next to Sue Beardsley, the biggest gossip in the school.
When she saw who it was, she wrinkled her nose disdainfully. "Ew. What do you want, Diawna?"
I whispered something in her ear. As she turned around to look at me, I saw her expression had changed. "Are you serious?"
"Dead." I tried to seem casual. "And you know what else—"
I leaned toward her ear again.
Her eyes were wide as she looked at me. I grinned as she scampered off, probably to find someone to tell.
But gradually the lies got from Eliza kissing a werewolf to outlandish tales of her murdering a small child. My plan had worked, though. Now I was more popular then ever, and Eliza was a nothing. But it had come at a price. I found that out one day.
I was working one afternoon when I felt a pang on my forehead. "Ow!" I clapped a hand to my brow. It happened again. I tried to contact Eliza with that link we shared, seeing if she felt it, too. Then it hit me. She was causing it. But what made me even more puzzled was this: She was shutting me out. Forever. I hadn't meant for her to feel this way. I had no idea that her feelings could hurt. But she was hurting mine, too. And I wasn't about to apologize. I shut her out, too.
As I look back on it, then was the turning point. It was when I forded the river, letting something dark grasp my soul, never to let go. As I reflect, I dully think that perhaps I never crossed the stream. Maybe it was too deep—or wide…
Even if I could go back, to neutral, at the brink of two forces, I don't think that I could bring myself to say that I was sorry.
Authors Note: Yes, I know it didn't make sense. Don't ask and we'll all be hunky-dory. Yes, I have Eliza's permission. Yes, there is more. Yes, I am the coolest author in the universe. Yes, this is nothing like Eliza's writing. Yes, I'm going to quit now~
Disclaimer: Nothing. Belongs. To. Me. It's. All. Eliza's.