Hey! I'm a bit disappointed on the low repercussion my fic is having. How do you like this so far? Because I've written several more chapters … they are great, in my opinion, but… well… I'm the author so there is no objectivity on that statement.
Chapter 5: The book
"This is the prologue of Florence's book. I hope you'll enjoy and get to know her better… I know I did. So, ladies and gentleman, with no further words, Miss Florence Pugliare"- Hermione presented her best friend in front a room filled with critics, readers, fans and… well… critics. Florence, after a couple of seconds, walked into the stage and started reading from a little pink page she was holding, at the time, with her trembling hands.
"I think that everybody survives its childhood, but I know I survived mine the most- a famous reporter once said. I must agree with that statement as I am sure that when we are only innocent children we hope, we dream of a better future. When you start to grow up, however, you have to deal with the truth; with the reality that have been kept from you by a protective parent or a stupid society- or may be both- and that hurts not only because the world is a mean place to live in, but because you realize about that just then.
Everyone survives its childhood, yes. The fact that I survived it the most is not relevant as I am sure that my opinion is not a very objective one, but on the contrary: my subjectivity had caused only trouble in the past. Everything has to be about me. May be that why my marriage didn't work; may be that why I have a hundred of friends but also a hundred of enemies; because I take everything so bloody personal.
My parents weren't the best ones; but lets face it: nobody's parents are. I think it finding out I was a witch didn't help. I come from a big Italian family and as probably only Italians know (And when I say only Italians I mean EVERYONE, because Italians would have talk about it non stop) we can get a little too possessive about "la familia" and have I mention that if you mess with one of the members of the family you mess with us all? …well… that pretty much says it.
My mother died, my father too. I am an orphan now, I am parentless. As I said I have lots of people around me, but only a couple were with me from day one, though I must clarify something first: George- my ex husband and also the protagonist on my story- was there with me all along the way. Well… almost all along the way. He was great. He is great. We have a strange kind of post- divorce relationship; we love each other but.. we cant cope with the past on a daily basis.
He, I am sure, couldn't stand facing his insecurities everyday. He couldn't cope with me being wanted by anyone; so his idea of a marriage consisted on me staying home and cooking dinner.
I don't know why I chose a non-Italian man to marry to escape from my outrageous family. May be its because I need some structure or may be because I just bloody loved him more than I loved myself and that last one may just be one correct one, eventhough he'll never believe me.
And regarding myself, I am one screw up girl- pardon my French. I had an awful childhood. I've never fitted on any group, and I am a lonely soul. That's my nature, anyway. Despite the fact that everybody thinks the contrary about me. Most of the time I just love to listen to good music, or read a fabulous book or write about a life that doesn't resemble my own, though I must admit I am doing that now. But, please, don't judge me. I need to create a happy ending to my life.
And finally… I just one more thing left to say. My friends- the real ones- support and understand my every decision. My ex's brother- and my best mate- is the only soul on this earth that truly loves me; that truly takes care of me without "loving" me on a "sexual" way.
My best female friend in the whole world is Hermione Granger. And she's the person that I would most probably label as "my twin sister" as we not only share our curls but our intellectuality as well.
If I had to describe myself in only a few lines I would say that I am a snobbish, egocentric witch lucky in her careers but tremendously unfortunate on her real life. I know how to write stories; I don't know how to live them. And that may come as a problem; actually it did come as a problem.
So, all in all… I leave you all to read the story of my life… I sincerely hope you'll enjoy it"
And with that, all the people in the room stated clapping though Florence was too focused on finding George's red hair. But he wasn't around.
