Summary: AU. She was just a girl—a young girl, at that—when she had her heart broken. No, it was not by any lover she had (she was far too young for that), but by her own kin. She hid herself behind a mask—a wall—an untouchable one—one that would guarantee her protection. Little did she know that the wall she had built so carefully would soon crumble down.

Disclaimer: Since my name is not J.K. Rowling, or anything even close to that, it should be quite obvious that I own nothing…not even the plot…not really…


Prologue…

It was insanity that drove her to it—pure, utter insanity. She could not have possibly been sane to do what she did. No sane person would have done what she had done—she was sure of it. At least she acknowledged her insanity and her extreme actions. That, at least, was what kept her alive. Anybody in their right mind would be questioning her sanity, but then again, very few people she knew were actually mentally stable.

Desperation was another thing—the need to have a true friend, the need to be loved, the need to love another. It was just one more thing that drove her to this "insanity." It was just another reason for her to do what she did.

Her experiences were what did the trick. She grew up quite quickly—not early, per se—merely quite speedily. Many before her have grown up earlier than she, but few have grown up so fast. It only took a matter of months—even days—for her to leave the safety of childhood innocence—to enter the world of corruption and greed created by adults. In the blink of an eye, she was no longer a child. She no longer possessed the cheeriness children felt; instead, she experienced the mistrust and resentment felt by older folks—those that are assumed to be wiser, more mature.

No, she had been hurt—hurt in a way no child should ever experience. She had been destroyed—exploited even. She had her heart broken.

She was loved by many, admired by so much more, but she was hurt by those closest to her. She had her heart broken, torn into shreds—her youthful innocence gone, taken away from as easily as it was to say three simple words.

It was her sister that ruined her—her older sister. However, with that one simple action, it was not only her sister the girl lost, but her best friend as well. The two were once very, very close—inseparable, even. They used to do everything together; they would tell each other everything—nothing could be a secret with those two. They were, as many deemed them, two peas in a pod. Anybody that looked at the two girls walking, hand in hand, would have immediately assumed that they would be friends for life—that nothing could go between them. Alas, they never knew how wrong they were.

Nobody knew what happened—what made them fall apart. It may have been her sister's consistent jealousy through the years (that nobody had truly noticed), but nobody was ever sure. All they knew was on that fateful summer day the girls were no longer friends. There had been no sign—not even a slight indication—that their friend ship would end, and end so abruptly. The two girls had seemed perfect together, to say the least, and everybody was confused. The only thing that they could be sure about was that one had uttered three simple words that destroyed the other—a simple: "I hate you."

Of course, there was nothing simple about saying "I hate you," but the words flew out so quickly and the time was so brief, that it seemed almost effortless to say them. There was so much passion behind those three words that the girl had staggered back—her eyes wide, shining with tears. Her mouth had parted in a perfect "O," but did nothing more. There was no retaliation, no hiccup, no hand to cover the predictable surge of sobs and wails. No, none of that happened. She simply smiled sadly, setting her mouth in a firm, grim line—a look that should never be seen on a child's face—and walked away. She did not run; she merely strode calmly, her eyes blazing, her chin up high. She walked with confidence that she did not feel. In reality, she was breaking inside. She had been destroyed—emotionally ruined. She would never be the same again. She wanted to cry so badly—she wanted that more than anything in the world. It had been her own sister—her best friend…but…but…She only shook her head and kept on walking.

Surprisingly, the girl had shed few tears over this ordeal—she was not one to cry freely. She had the misguided thought that only the weak cry. (It would be later when she would realize how wrong she really was.) Only when she was sure that no one could hear her did she sob to her heart's content; this she did rarely. Instead, she made the mistake that many make—a choice that, at first, seems to perfect, so foolproof, that it is terribly difficult to turn down. She chose this for her own protection, though this "solution" could only lead to further destruction, and ultimately—as one could say—her demise. She decided to put up a wall between her and those around her; she decided to put on an impenetrable mask.

It was not just any wall she put up—not just any mask she chose to wear. It was a magical one. And the magic made it practically unbreakable.


Author's Note: I got this plot idea from reading "True Love is Blind" by glittery-snowflake. It's going to be different, by the way, as is what happens when you do something of your own. You should read it sometime—"True love is Blind," that is—it's really good…just incomplete…

Once again, if you liked this story, which would be quite the shocker to me seeing that I've only written a prologue that has no indication of what the plot could really be, I would have to disappoint you and say that updates probably will not be very consistent…I'm sorry…it's just…I'm not good with updates. I'm actually on time with most of my writing, it's just I have to type up the darn things, and that takes up more time, and I need to do other things that are equally as time-wasting.

I would really appreciate if you, dear reader, to review. It's always nice to know what others think—just don't insult me as a person. I've gotten enough of that in my lifetime. I don't need it from people I don't even know.

Thank you for reading.

(I'm sorry if my Author's Note was a bit rude, by the way. It's just that I can kind of relate to this prologue that I've written, so it hasn't put me in the best of moods)

And sorry for any typos, by the way.

My most sincere apologies for my slight rudeness,

Delia

P.S—I would still appreciate it very much if you review. And I take Anonymous reviews, so…(glances subtly at the review button below) please…? *smiled meekly*