1.
Far away in a strange country, in a strange land, in a strange province, in a strange town, there lived a girl. Far away from the wizarding world that you know, was she, in the muggle world, who would change many lives, of whom you do know, forever.
The country was South Africa, the province was Natal and the town was Kloof, Durban. There, lived a girl called Nat. At the tip of Africa, in a country torn apart by turmoil and racial prejudice, there she was.
On the 21st of May 1961, Annette Shycock gave birth to twins. First, Elisabeth Anne Shycock, then ten agonizing minutes later she bore another, whom was named Natalia May. The last birth was especially long and hard, on the already frail woman's fragile body. She died, soon after the birth of Natalia.
Leaving, two barely an hour old twin girls, a distraught man and a two year old son, with nothing in the world, but each other.
From then on Natalia was just Nat, nothing more or less.
She and her twin were extremely close, identical at first glance, but demanded a closer look. Nat had dark, almost black hair, and eyes, so blue, people wanted to look at them, but were disturbed by their intensity. Elisabeth was like her father, lighter brown hair and aquamarine eyes. Nat was cursed (in her opinion anyhow) to look like her mother.
It was a known fact; Elisabeth did the talking enough for both if them. She did the listening. Elisabeth was better at basically everything that Nat; she was daddy's little girl. Nat was the follower and the blamed on the topic of her mother's death. Only herself and her father really did this though. Their brother, Tristan adored her though and made up for any hurt she might suffer from her father's dismissal. She endured the first years of her life with a very low self-confidence. Though there was one thing that gave her a shred of it, She remembered the moment exactly.
They were seven. It was time for their first tennis lesson. Elisabeth took her first forehand, a strong and confident stroke. The tennis coach watched the other twin, a mere shadow of her sister. How would she fair? Nat gripped the tennis racket, she was so nervous! She almost closed her eyes and just whacked. Wow! Her stroke was powerful and exact. From then on it was one of the only things that could make her forget something awful. Elisabeth had at first been astonished at it, yet she accepted it. Though, she refused to play the sport.
Then on Christmas Eve 1971 everything changed.
Nat sighed heavily, here they went again. Why did Elisabeth always get the front seat? It was so unfair! She got into the back of the car next to Tristan and did up her seat belt. Though he loved her very much, he was still a twelve-year-old boy and was prone to teasing his sisters. "Sulking Natty!" he joked as he sat himself beside her and buckled up. Her already swelling temper was fused by this and was set off. "Don't call me that you domkop!" she retaliated.
"Natty! Watch your language," Elisabeth reprimanded as she sidled into the desired front seat, dismissing her seatbelt in order to reprimand her twin.
"Yes, Lissie dear," she retorted in her most sarcastic voice.
"Nat, don't be sarcastic with your sister,' her father reprimanded severely as he slid into the driver's seat and buckled up.
"Why not?"
Nobody answered her.
All continued in this vain in till Nat got sick of it. Addressing her father she said: "Why am I always blamed for everything? Why do you always take the other side? Why do always praise her and not me? Why do love her more than me?" he father's mouth gapped at her like a Jellyfish and Elisabeth looked violated. Tristan kept wisely quiet. "Don't say such rubbish Natty!' Her sister said.
" Don't speak to me like that Miss perfect," She screamed. "I HATE you!"
"No you don't," her sister said, though tears of hurt welled up in her eyes.
"Yes I do. I…" But she never got to finish her sentence, because at that moment something ran across the road, the car in front swerved back to avoid it and they rammed into it. Her father was thrown against the steering wheel; the two in the back safely tucked into seatbelts were chucked into the back of the front seats. Yet, the twin in the front, whose seatbelt was absent want flying through the windshield, never to know a thing again.
Nat groggily opened her eyes; she could taste blood on her tongue. All these people were swarming around her, a siren blaring in the distance.
"How do feel dear?" a fat paramedic asked her. " Where's my sister? Where's my twin?" she fretted. "Well dear," the paramedic stalled. "She…."
But she was up and away," No dear," she wailed. But, it was two late, lying there on a stretcher was her finally beaten twin, as dead as a doornail.
Elisabeth was rushed to the hospital, yet there was nothing they could do for her, she was dead.
When she had first seeing Elisabeth just lying there, her body had gone into a state of shock, it didn't know what to do with itself.
Now, at home, after the accident, it did. It cried. Her entire being racked with sobs as she replayed her last words to Elisabeth. She didn't have Christmas, for a week she ate nothing, did nothing, just stayed in her room and cried nobody could even try to comfort her.
The funeral was horrible, she was made to talk about her twin, to honor her memory, and all she did was cry instead. All she wanted to do was tell people to "footsak" when they tried to offer her sympathy. They didn't how she felt; none of them had lost Elisabeth as a twin.
At school she declined to do anything, she refused to play tennis, talk to her friends or go out. She refused to acknowledge her Birthday. She started to wonder how she could go on without the one person who had meant the world to her, even though she hated her at times. She still loved her more than any other being.
Little did she know the answer was being delivered to her window by an owl, on a piece of parchment at that very instant.
