Chapter 1: Emerald Eyes
Emerald Eyes
These characters are not mine. They belong to JK Rowling.
I hated her, the freak. I always did. She stood in the center of attention, and she had everything, that I, standing over here in my dark, lonely corner, couldn't have. She was beautiful, with her lovely red locks, and perfect emerald eyes. All I had was black straw for hair and eyes the colour of mud. She had a full figure, not to thin, nor to fat. I was a stick. I didn't even have muscles. Every night, since the day I turned eleven, I've wished we weren't related. Up until then, I pretended to get along. Maybe, if mum and dad thought we were close, they'd pay me a little more attention.
Then, she had to go and find out she was a part of a magical, disgusting world. She could turn mice into teacups, and make furniture float. She could mix potions to put people into a sleep like death, and had petted a unicorn. She knew every star in the sky by a different name than I did, and she could even, occasionally, predict the future. And what did I have? Nothing but envy and spite.
She was gone for more than a year, off at that school of hers. No doubt she was learning more to push me further and further away from the love of my family. Even when she was gone, my parents seldom even noticed my presence. They celebrated over her letters (delivered by dirty, filthy owls), and were constantly delighted in the gifts she sent. All they spoke about was her. And it killed me.
Three years after she'd entered that dreadful school, Pigwarts or something similar, she started complaining about a man "stalking" her, practically all over her. But I could tell that she didn't mind it as much as she made it sound like she did. I predicted that someday, Lily would come home, spilling words of love about this boy.
And she did.
When she was just graduating from school, she brought home her "stalker". He was tall, with wild, dark hair, hazel eyes, and a strong build. He also had a pleasant face, and the desire to do anything to please my sister. As usual, I went ignored. They both seemed so happy. And soon after, I met Vernon. He was no match in the looks or attitude department for this James guy, but he was enough for me. When I found out I was pregnant, I was so happy, and I rushed home to tell my parents. Only to find Lily there, dancing around the room, shouting how happy she was − to be having a baby.
It seemed no matter what, I would always come second.
Less than two years later, I heard word of my sister's death. She had been murdered by some serial killer that was raging over Britain, though I had yet to hear of any killings. I felt a horrid guilt in my gut, but also, relief. My rival in everything was gone, and now, maybe my parents would remember that they had another daughter.
Then, when I opened the door to a brand new day, and a brand new bottle of milk, I also opened the door to a brand new burden. An everlasting reminder of what I couldn't have then, and can't ever have now.
Those eyes, Lily's emerald eyes.